


Catch Me If You Can

by sorbriquette



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: 5+1, Baz's sexual fantasy, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Getting Together, I have a very specific set of kinks so this probs aint for everyone soz, I'm perverted ask anyone, M/M, Masturbation, More so the porn is the plot?, Sexually frustrated Simon Snow, Simon Snow is shite at dirty talk, also there's a bit of bondage but that's is the light shit, baz is plotting, even in Baz's mind, he's such a bottom tbh, humiliation (again kinda), it's not even light, it's pree heavy, kinda? But he's only rlly into it if it's Simon, like a lot of it, like the soft shit, not so much porn without plot, one could argue for its-, unless i change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-05 08:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14613672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorbriquette/pseuds/sorbriquette
Summary: In which Baz finds he rather likes having Simon walk in on him 'taking care of himself' and starts redirecting his plotting towards making it happen again.(Formerly: 5 Times Simon Walked In On Baz Wanking and 1 Time He Told Him To, literally nothing else has changed, this is the exact same fic. It just needed a title that wasn't shite. Also it ended up only vaguely a 5+1 so...)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I was supposed to update Night After Night tonight, but it kinda underwent a major plot revision for the next chapter so that's not happening tonight. Yall get this instead I guess. (Don't worry, I wrote this like a month ago, it took no time away from my WIP)
> 
> As a heads up, if you read Baz's sexual fantasy sequence and you're not into it, this is probably not the fic for you. (Save perhaps chapter 2-4)
> 
> This won't have a regular update schedule, it's more of a when the mood takes me kinda thing. Granted, the mood also needs to not take me too much if you know what I mean ;)

**Baz**

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

 

I was in the shower dealing with a bit of a problem. It was _his_ fault after all. I'd woken earlier in the morning than usual, it had been a cold night and Snow had left the fucking window open like he always does. Bastard.

 

If I hadn't been awake I wouldn't have heard it. Him softly groaning my name in his sleep. It was just once, and it was more likely out of frustration than arousal but that was all it took. Crowley, I'm weak. More so because I laid in bed there for several minutes, half hard and waiting. Hoping he'd do it again. He didn't. But I couldn't stop playing that sound on repeat in my head.

 

There was only so long I could wait there. Because the longer I waited the more I thought about it. The more I thought about how to get him to do it again. If you'd asked me right then if I was plotting, I'd have been lying if I said no. I was plotting. Trying to figure out how to get him to make that fucking noise again. I could pretend they were all about pissing him off until he groaned in annoyance, that would have been lying too.

 

I imagined running my lips down his throat, nipping and sucking against every mole along his neck and figuring out which ones would make him sing. I could make beautiful music with my violin, but I doubt it would compare to the noises I could elicit from Simon Snow.

 

That was one of the tamer ones, I imagined more than that certainly.

 

Simon was all tangled up in his blankets. Evidently, he'd still gotten hot during the night. He’s mostly thrown the sheets off him, curling around them instead. I could see the sliver of skin just above his pyjama bottoms. I imagined running my fingers across it. Slipping my fingers under the waistband of his pants. Tugging them down. I wonder if he wears anything under them. In my fantasy's he certainly doesn't.

 

That was when I got up, gathered my things and rushed off to the bathroom.

 

**Simon**

When I wake up I have a pretty severe case of morning wood. I hold my breath for a second, but I realise that probably isn't the way to feign sleep around my vampire roommate.

 

Vampires have super hearing, right? He'd be able to hear it if I held my breath. If Baz was already going to mock me for this, I shouldn't give him the proof it's getting under my skin before he even starts.

 

I slowly let my eyes flicker open, the world comes into focus and I realise I'm facing away from Baz. Good, I would never have lived it down, otherwise.

 

I'm hesitant to get up. Hesitant to do anything at all that might alert my roommate to the fact that I'm awake. So, I just lay there for a few moments, trying to remember for the life of me what I dreamed about.

 

Then I hear the water of the shower start running.

 

I breathe a long sigh of relief, but softly and into my pillow, so Baz doesn't hear. Not that he could over the sound of the water from the shower. (Probably)

 

Slowly I sit up, glancing over at the clock and start to get ready to head down to breakfast.

 

**Baz**

I consider it for a second. A cold shower. But right now, I'm too worked up for that. Also, I just don’t want to. It's been a while.

 

I turn the water on as hot as I can without fear of scalding myself and get to work undressing while I wait for it to warm up.

 

Crowley, I'm completely hard now. All he did was say my name. I'm pathetic.

 

The water is still heating when I step under it but right now I can't bring myself to care. I barely care enough to sweep the shower curtain closed before I press my forearm up against the wall and slowly start working my cock. Very slowly. I intend on drawing this one out, savouring it. While I can still remember the way his voice sounded when he said my name.

 

I wonder how he'd do this.

 

Surely with Wellbelove it's all soft and sweet and tender.

 

I push that thought out of my mind. I don't want Wellbelove anywhere near my thoughts right now.

 

How would he do it to _me_ though?

 

Like when we fight. Rough and violent. Would he shove me up against the wall? Drag his nails down my back? Pull my hair as he fucks my mouth?

 

Would I even like that?

 

Would it be like when we argue? Teasing. Mocking. He'd grab my cock through my pants. _Well..._ He'd laugh to himself as he pressed his hand up against my erection. _Someone's horny._

 

I'd deny it of course.

_Is it for me?_ He'd ask, probably biting his lip.

 

 It sounds stupid I know, but I really doubt somehow that Snow suddenly gets a way with words when he's in the mood. 

 

Regardless, I'd tell him no again. I'd be lying of course. He'd rub his hand up against me and I'd be unable to suppress a moan, or maybe even a whimper. He wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't need to. I'd see the look in his eye as he'd do it again. I'd try and fail to not make a noise again. And again.

 

Who knows how long he'd toy with me like that for. Watching me squirm under his touch as I desperately fought to hide what he was doing to me.

 

Then he'd slide get on his knees before me. Unzip my pants. Slowly. Torturously slowly. I'd be needing the pressure of my pants to be removed but I'd try not to act like it. I'd move my hands up in front of my crotch to conceal myself as he takes off my underwear.

 

He'd give me a look and I'd meet it, pretending his eyes didn't set me on fire and that there wasn't a dusting of pink across my cheeks.

_Come on Baz be a good boy. Let me see._ He'd say taking my hands and slowly peeling them away from me, holding them up against the wall on either side of me so I couldn't cover myself.

 

He'd laugh again, and I'd flush deeper and close my eyes, but I'd still be able to feel his gaze on my still cock. He'd probably keep talking, even though he's not any good at it, just to humiliate me and Crowley I'd love it. _Oh, you're so hard Baz. From just that? I can see the precum leaking from your cock already._ I'd shudder and somehow my dick would get even harder and he'd just laugh again. _Oh, you like this don't you? Being so exposed for me._

 

I'd say nothing. But he'd know. Even though he's thick. It would be so obvious that he'd know. And he'd just stay there for a little while. Letting me feel his warm breath along my aching member. Mouth breather. He'd be doing it on purpose this time though. Watching me, enjoying watching me suffer under his eyes and love every second of it.

 

Eventually, it would be too much and I'd try to thrust forward into his mouth and he'd just pull away from me, still holding my hands to the wall, but far enough that my hips couldn't reach his mouth. _Desperate aren't you? Aching. I bet you-_

 

And suddenly the Simon Snow in my head is interrupted by the real one hammering on the bathroom door. "Hurry up Baz I need to brush my teeth before I miss breakfast."

 

It should pull me out of my fantasy, but it does anything but.

 

"Fuck off Snow." I call back, stroking my cock faster now. He's just outside the door. So close yet so far. He doesn't even know I'm touching myself as we speak.

 

I hear a loud over emphasised groan and it only spurs me on. "You've been in there for _half an hour_."

 

"Yes, and I'm not done so you'll have to wait." I say, fighting to keep my voice steady against the odds.

 

I wait for a reply, still stroking up and down my erection.

 

And then I hear the door open.

 

"So... uh, don't come out I'll just brush my teeth and go." I hear his voice from _inside_ the room.

 

Suddenly all those years of complaining about the fact that Watford uses shower curtains in the place of glass feel incredibly stupid. Those curtains just saved my dignity.

 

I stick my head around the side of the curtain to glare at Snow. Not my usual glare. There's a lot more venom in this. Partially due to the fact that he just interrupted me jerking off and partially because he just walked into the fucking bathroom while I was showering.

 

"What the fuck, Snow." I say, ensuring I fill every word with even more venom than the last. I am all too aware that I'm still very hard and completely naked and Snow is _right there_. "Get out."

 

He turns to look at me, all bed head and mouth foaming over with toothpaste. He mumbles something incoherent around the toothbrush and waves me away. He goes to turn away and he just freezes.

 

He's not looking at my face anymore. He's looking lower. I follow his gaze and see my cock pressed up against the shower curtain. The fabric clings to it like it always does to wet skin and it's so very obvious what he's staring at.

 

I freeze too, for just a second. Snow looks very red and he just keeps staring at my cock's outline against the curtain.

 

"Out!" I snap again and this time he turns and runs. Toothbrush still in hand, white foam still dripping from his lips. He runs not just out of the bathroom, but out of our room altogether.

 

Merlin, Simon Snow just saw my cock. Or, near enough to it. And he stared at it. And for a second, I let him.

 

I am still incredibly aroused, if not more.

 

So, I slide my hand back down my body and take hold of myself again.

 

For the second time this morning I touch myself while thinking about Snow looking at my cock. This time it's a bit more than a fantasy. This time I cum.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't have the next chapter of Night After Night written up properly yet, so yall know what that means. It means porn.

**Baz**

 

The second time it happens it's a little less of an accident.

 

We're both in bed and it's late and Snow is definitely asleep.

 

Snow is painfully obvious when he fakes sleep. I wonder if I would still do this if he were only faking sleep.

 

It's been a week since Snow walked into the bathroom while I was getting off to the version of him in my head. A week of Snow not telling me to hurry up in the mornings anymore, he just runs off to breakfast now. A week of my thoughts being constantly plagued by the memory of Simon Snow staring at the outline of my erect cock through the shower curtain.

 

I roll onto my stomach.

 

I usually sleep on my side, facing away from Snow. I make sure to turn away from him every night after I've had my fill of staring at him for the night. Or, not my fill exactly, just as much as I'll indulge myself. I'm not sure I'll ever get my fill of staring at Simon.

 

I let my mind wander back to that morning. Of Snow's face, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. Of how utterly humiliated and exposed I felt. Of how much worse it felt when that only turned me on more. I can feel myself growing harder.

 

Slowly I lift my hips up slightly and grind them back into the mattress below me. Again, and again, and again.

 

I'm still wearing my pyjamas. They'll be easier to spell clean if Snow wakes up and I have to dash off to the bathroom. It'll give me something to cover myself with too.

 

And now I'm thinking of Snow waking up as I grind downwards, feeling shocks of pleasure run through me.

 

He's right there. Only a few feet away as I shamelessly rut into the mattress. What would he do if he woke up? Panic and start yelling, turning that brilliant shade of red as I run off? Would he just stare at me open mouthed and spluttering? (Probably)

 

I like to think he'd enjoy it. He wouldn't, but I like to think he would. He'd prop himself up on one elbow and watch me through his eyelashes. Just staring openly until I chanced a glance at him and saw him. And I'd stop. And he'd just shake his head and tell me to carry on. His hand that wasn't propping up his head sliding under the blankets to where I could see a bulge emerging. Crowley, his blankets are thin enough that I should be able to see it.

 

I press my face into my pillow, biting down on it so I can't make any noise as I thrust harder into the bed, imagining Simon Snow watching me do it.

 

**Simon**

I'm pretty sure Baz is grinding himself up against his bed right now. I'm watching him, and I don't really know what to do.

 

Should I cough? Clear my throat so he knows I'm awake and stops. Maybe I don't want him to stop.

 

What am I thinking? This is perverted.

 

I shut my eyes tightly for a moment, willing myself to not want to look. I can't stop myself from looking for very long. I can't see much really. Nothing definite, I can't make out details, only shapes.

 

Baz has his face pressed into the pillow I think. I think his fingers are gripping it tightly too. His hips slowly move up and down against the bed. So slowly I think he was trying not to wake me.

 

I wish he hadn't woke me.

 

I'm glad he did though.

 

I follow the motions of his hips with my eyes even though I try my best to stop myself.

 

_Stop Simon, this is wrong, he's your roommate, your enemy, he's Baz._

 

And he's laying here so close to me and rutting into his mattress.

 

I thought that morning a week ago had been bad. When I'd seen his cock pressed up against the shower curtain. The curtain just sheer enough that as the fabric clung to his tip I could make out the slight hues of grey and pink bellow it. If I'm honest I've spent way too much time over the past week mentally trying to reconstruct what the rest of it looks like from that glimpse.

 

It's on my list of things I try not to think about. I'm not sure I've ever been _this_ bad at not thinking about something. The fact that it's easier not to think about Penny and sour cherry scones than it is to think about Baz's dick is something I don't really want to understand right now.

 

I'm also not sure why I had to make a beeline for the on-campus bathroom and rub one out so badly. I actually missed breakfast. I missed breakfast because I was jacking it to the image of Baz standing in our shower and touching himself. This is an all-time low I think.

 

I let myself think about his cock now though. I think about it sliding up and down against the mattress. I wonder if Baz is wearing anything under the unnecessary amount of sheets he has on. Is he about to cum in his pants or is he just going to let it seep out onto the mattress? I'm honestly not sure which thought is more appealing to me.

 

I'm incredibly hard right now. That's something I also try not to think about. I can't do anything about it right now. If I run off to the bathroom to sort it out Baz will stop. Merlin and Morgana, I don't want him to stop. If I try and touch myself here Baz will surely notice.

 

So, I do nothing. I lay in bed, painfully hard and watch my roommate fuck himself into a mattress.

 

**Baz**

I lift my face up out of the pillow for a moment, enjoying the respite of being able to breathe properly. I don't stop though. I'm not sure I could stop right now if I wanted to.

 

I glance over at Snow, not properly, I don't turn my head. I just let my eyes flicker in his direction.

 

Simon Snow is awake.

 

Simon Snow is awake, and he is watching me get off.

 

It's not like the Simon in my mind. Not propped up and obviously watching, not languidly stroking himself, not making foul comments that spur me on every few seconds. This Simon is just lying there, watching the movement of my hips and ... biting his lip I think.

 

I can see in the dark a lot better than he can. I know Simon's watching me. I don't think he knows I know he's watching me though.

 

I've faltered for a second under Snow's eyes. Stopped for a moment. But he hasn't said anything. He hasn't done anything. He's just watching. And maybe I feel like giving him a show.

 

I feel my cheeks flush at the thought but none the less I resume my motions. Slightly more vigorously this time. My stiff cock rubs against the fabric of my underwear and the mattress with a new intensity.

 

I bite back a moan because Snow is watching.

 

And then I rut into the mattress again and I let myself groan quietly because Snow is _watching_.

 

I press my face back into the pillow and continue my ministrations. I let myself moan more loudly this time, the pillow muffles it slightly but I'm sure Snow hears it nonetheless.

 

God. I shouldn't want him to hear this. I shouldn't want him to enjoy it. I shouldn't want to lay here and get myself off just for him.

 

But I do.

 

Because I'm weak.

 

And because he's letting me.

 

It only takes a few more thrusts, a few more moans, each louder than the last before I climax. My hips jerk quickly up and down as I ride out the orgasm. Then I lay there for a few seconds, breathing heavily, coming down from that high.

 

I prop myself up again and chance a glance at Snow. He's got his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his face is flushed. His expression actually looks pained.

 

Good.

 

I slowly gather myself up and head to the bathroom to clean up.

 

**Simon**

He stopped for a second and then he started again. More intense this time. His hips came up further and came down harder and I almost forgot how to breathe.

 

And then he moaned.

 

That bastard fucking moaned.

 

And I wanted him to do it again. He did. Every time he did it I wished he would do it again. Every time I wished he would do it again he did but louder. This must be a dream right. Some sick, messed up nightmare. Because I just watched _Baz_ masturbate. And I'm lying here hard as a rock and there's nothing I can do about it.

 

When he gets up and heads to the bathroom I let myself open my eyes. (I'm not sure when I'd shut them. When he came I think?)

 

He's wearing pyjamas. Baz Pitch just came in his pants. In front of me. While fucking himself into his mattress.

 

Merlin, I'm not even sure if he  _is_ wearing pants under his pyjamas. I try not dwell on that. I'm hard enough as it is.

 

I let my hand slide down under the covers to my own cock. I give it a few experimental tugs.

 

Just when I'm working myself up into a rhythm Baz comes back and gets into bed like nothing happened. I can't keep going now.

 

 _Why not?_ A voice in the back of my mind says. _He just did for you._

I ignore the voice. I suffer through the night. Hard and unable to get the oh so fresh memory of tonight’s events out of my head. I'm not sure I actually get any sleep that night. All I get is a lot of sexual frustration.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids, I know I've been AWOL for like the past 2 weeks but I have been working on shit. It's just mainly one shots and I'm shite at endings so one shots are hard to finish. I haven't actually written the next chapter of this like I prefer to before posting, but oh well, it's been a long ass time. (Sorry!)
> 
> Also cheers to Bettie for beta-ing this for me!

**Simon**

I'm heading back to our room, cutting my study session with Penny short for today. I couldn't focus anyway. Apparently, all I can think about anymore is Baz. Well, I mean I always thought about Baz. It's different now though.

I used to think about what Baz was plotting and what I'd need to do to stop him. Now I think about Baz naked and needy and grinding himself into my leg until he cums. Admittedly I don't have a particularly clear image of what that would look like. I'm really glad I don't though, because every so often, and by that, I mean all the time, it slips into my thoughts and suddenly I'm really turned on.

I'm not sure if this means I'm gay.

I've never had Agatha running through my thoughts quite like this.

I'm not sure I've ever had anyone running through my thoughts like this.

I've been attracted to people, of course, and wanked to people before. It was never this persistent before though.

Having a crisis about my sexuality isn't really something I ever thought would happen. It's not even really a crisis about that. So, what if I like blokes? No, the problem is that it's  _ Baz.  _ I half think this is a plot to seduce me into lowering my guard, so he can off me. That'd probably get  _ him off _ better than anything is right now.

I force the thought of Baz getting off out of my head for what must be the dozenth time today as I climb the steps to our room.

And then I can't force it out of my head anymore, because as I push open the door, Baz is laying there. He's on his bed, the buttons of his pants are undone and he's slowly stroking up and down his cock. He's got his eyes closed and I don't think he heard me open the door.

He definitely didn't hear me come in because he's still going. His slender fingers move slowly up and down his length and I just stand there staring like an idiot.

I'm not entirely sure what I should do.

That's a lie.

I know exactly what I should do. I should turn around and leave and pretend I never saw this.

I consider clearing my throat and letting him know I'm here so I can turn away and he can get decent. Even that would be a better option than just standing here staring. I don't really want to stop standing here staring though. Because I've been thinking about this non-stop for days. Baz is laying there and the only thing blocking my view of his cock is his hand and right now and I wouldn't move that for the world.

Baz likes to go slowly apparently. I like that he does.

I should stop. I should go. I think to myself.

Then Baz whimpers. He fucking whimpers. Now I'm not sure I could leave if I wanted to.

I let my hand ghost down to the front of my trousers. I don't need to, I know I'm hard. I'm not sure when I'll get another chance like this again though.

**Baz**

As it happens, I do hear the door open. I hear Snow's breath hitch as well.

I keep my eyes closed and wank myself agonisingly slowly, knowing that he's watching.

Crowley, I can feel his eyes on me and I love it. I hate it too. I'm tempted to tug the blankets up and cover myself. Then the jig would really be up. Because I didn't do it when the door opened, I did it after, when I changed my mind about what I want from all this. Simon Snow would know that I knew he was there. That I kept going regardless. That I enjoyed having his eyes on me while I touched myself. If I had any blood left to spare I'm sure it would be decorating my cheeks right now.

I'm already here, I might as well keep going. I drag my hand slowly up the length of my cock and let out a soft whimper. It's pathetic. But maybe I'd like to be a bit pathetic in front of Simon Snow.

I'm not sure Snow has started breathing again yet.

He's not said anything either or done anything. So maybe I'll give him a little more.

I release my cock and slide by hand up my stomach, tugging up my shirt until my fingers reach my nipple. My other hand is still tightly wound into the sheets below me. I pinch at my nipple for a moment, giving it a long slow tug, before releasing it and rolling the nub between thumb and forefinger.

So now Simon Snow has seen my cock. Properly seen it.

Snow also knows I like having my nipples played with.

I wonder which of those he's focusing on right now?

I think maybe I'd like Snow to see me climax.

I wonder if Snow would like to see it?

I detangle my other hand from the sheets and bring it up to toy with my other nipple. It's easier to touch myself with my dominant hand so that one slowly moves back between my thighs. I let myself groan at the contact and my back arches off the bed.

I drag my fingertips slowly up my cock. Teasing him. Teasing me too. Teasing myself  _ in front of him _ .

Two fingers tracing up it and then three down. Then up again, I let my fingers linger over my tip, tracing over it and feeling the pre-cum already dripping down the edges. I place my palm over the top of it, grinding my hand down. Then holding my palm above my cock, so I have to lift my hips off the bed to press into it.

It's pure torture. I'm enjoying it though. I'm enjoying it more because he's right there.

I should get down to it properly though if I really want to come for him.

As soon as I think it though, I hear a bang.

All it takes is a small gust of wind from the window Snow always leaves open and then the door shuts. I can't believe he was just standing there with the door open.

I can't pretend I didn't hear that, so I open my eyes.

I freeze for just a second, glancing at the hand over his crotch as my thoughts race a mile a minute. I quickly grab the sheets and pull them over myself.

I put on my most intimidating 'I'm going to kill you' stare, the one I know unnerves him the most. But I know I'm flushed and Simon knows I'm hard and aching under the blanket I've used to conceal my dignity. And my shirt is still dragged up over my torso, I hurriedly smooth it back down.

"Sorry." He pipes up, his voice is an octave higher than normal. Usually, I'd mock him for that but right now I'm not really the one in the position to be mocking the other.

He's not looking at me. I hate that I want him to. He's staring at the floor. "Snow." I snap at him. He looks up at me and realising where his hand is lingering over the crotch of his jeans he snaps it back to the side.

Simon Snow is hard. Simon Snow is hard and it's because he was just watching me get off.

"What?" He asks slowly, looking anywhere but at me.

I look at him as if he's stupid. Honestly that’s how I always look at him, but more so than usual today. "Turn the fuck around."

He stops for a second as if he hadn't thought of that, he probably hadn't, the fucking numpty. Then he does turn around and he faces away from me.

I consider for a second, continuing while his back is turned. Making Snow stand and stare into a corner while I touch myself behind him.

I don't though. I want to, but I don't.

Placing my still erect cock back into my pants and then closing my trousers over them is an ordeal. One I enjoy a little too much. Then I get up and march into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I should take a cold shower. But then I remember the look on Snow's face and the strain on his pants and I intend to finish.

I prop myself up against the door, bracing one arm against it because having Simon Snow walk in on me once is enough for one day. I slide my hand down into my pant and I imagine on the other side of the door the Simon is doing the same.

**Simon**

Merlin, Morgan and Methusala, that was... That was a lot.

Even after I hear the bathroom door close I just stand there for a minute.

My daydreams are going to be a lot worse now. They were fuzzy and consisted of what I thought Baz would look like naked and wanting. Now I know. I'm not sure I'll ever not know, because I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about it.

Baz isn't in the room anymore, so I let my hand move back to the tent in my trousers, palming it slowly.

I hear a soft groan from behind the bathroom door and I know he's still going.

Crowley, he's still going.

Mere meters from me, with only a door between us.

I can almost see it this time, his hand wrapped around his cock, languidly stroking it, precum shining against his grey skin. It's not so grey there though, probably because it requires blood, it turns a little pink. Just knowing what it looks like isn't enough anymore, now I want to know what it feels like wrapped up in my palm, or what it would taste like against my tongue.

And now I'm over at the bathroom door, hand steadying myself against it as I listen to every hitch in his breath, every soft sound I can barely hear through the hardwood. I let my hand rub the bulge in my pants. I could unbutton them and take my own cock in hand, but if Baz came out it'd probably go all kinds of wrong. My pants would end up around my ankles and I'd trip over them in my haste to flee.

Flee. That is exactly what I intend to do. Listen to Baz touch himself while I rub one out and then run out the room before he ever finds out I was here.

Crowley, I wish he hadn't before.

Baz Pitch was laying there and toying with himself.

I'd like to toy with him I think. Tease him. Take one of his nipples between my teeth and grind my leg between his and toy with him until he's begging to cum.

I'd like to see what he looks like when he's utterly wrecked and needy and powerless. He's always so in control. I think I'd like to take that from him.

I wonder what he looks like when he cums. I bet it's fucking beautiful. Everything about him is fucking beautiful and I hate him for that. Now, more than ever.

Thinking all these things doesn't mean I'll have them. He's still my enemy. We still hate each other. I think I'd just prefer to destroy him this way. Maybe even let him destroy me.

Then a moan that's slightly louder than the rest sounds from the other side of the door, he bites it back halfway through.

I recognise that sound from when Baz fucked himself into the mattress all those nights ago. I think it means he came.

Which means I need to go.

I'm still aching and hard, but he can't see that. Crowley, it's bad enough he saw the tent in my pants before.

So I all but run out of the room. In search of literally anywhere else, where I can go finish the job while thinking about having Baz's hand wrapped around my cock instead of my own.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya fam. As I have not shut up about, I have exams coming up, so this won't be getting updated again for at least another week, because I need to be doing things that aren't writing. Next chapter should be a good one though so? Hopefully worth the wait. I have a pre-written one shot that just needs some editing so that might get published but no promises. 
> 
> Anyways hope ya'll enjoy this chapter?
> 
> __
> 
> Mad late editing credit in here I got a bit caught up with life (tm)  
> Thanks to esabettie.tumblr.com for betaing this chapter for me!  
> And thanks to Hili for bringing up fingering and finally giving me the scene I needed to finish this damn chapter.

**Baz**

This is a bad idea.

I try to convince myself of that over and over.

It’s such a bad idea.

I've been doing this for days now. Laying here. Jerking off on my bed while I wait for Snow to get back to our room. I can't continue later than he'll usually come back, not later than curfew. Sometimes he comes back early though. That's the night I'm waiting for.

For Snow to come back to our room and see me pleasuring myself and get all worked up again.

I know he was standing on the other side of the door listening to me last time. Crowley, I've not been able to stop thinking about it. What does that even mean?

I know he was touching himself too. Listening to me wank and taking care of himself while he did.

He was gone when I came out of the bathroom. I don't think he ever came. A pity. I'd liked to have heard it.

This time I'm not so obviously displayed. I've one leg propped up beside me and the other outstretched, my trousers abandoned on the floor. I've moved the blanket to cover my crotch though. There's still a very obvious bulge below it, but I'm covered for the most part. Not completely, of course, the blanket isn't over my propped-up leg so if Snow does walk in he'll get a lovely view of my entire thigh.

I slide one lubed up finger slowly in and out of myself, palming myself with my other hand through my sheets, flesh coloured dildo lying beside me in plain view for if he comes in, so he knows exactly where I'm going with this.

I've still another hour before he'll be back usually. So, no need to rush through this. I don't really care where in this process Snow walks in, I just hope he does.

I've been hoping that for the past four days to no avail though.

I slide a second finger into my ass, fucking myself slowly down onto it.

Crowley what I'd give to have his fingers inside me instead. They're shorter so they wouldn't reach as far, but I'm sure he could still reach my prostate. Sliding them slowly in and out of me, watching me come undone, waiting to hear me beg to be fucked. I would eventually beg I think. I'd make him work for it though.

Right now, though, I'd just settle for him making an entrance.

As if I willed it to be so I hear the door creak open. I think maybe he's just going to stand there again, suffering as he watches me play with myself. He doesn't though, this time he makes his presence known.

"Merlin, Baz." It's like he's attempting to be exasperated but can't quite manage it.

I have the pleasure of extracting my fingers from where they're buried inside me while Snow watches and using them to tug the blanket further over my cock as it gives an involuntary twitch. "For fuck's sake, Snow. Are you doing this on purpose?" I snap at him.

He's not. I am. I don't think he is, though. Even if it gets him hard. He's not the type.

"Fuck off, Baz, I'm not." He says, his voice slightly higher than normal again, his eyes very obviously drawn to the tent in my blankets.

I try not to squirm under his gaze, but I can't help it. My hips shift under the blanket and Snow draws in a breath.

_ Crowley. _

"Then get the fuck out." I gesture to the door with the hand that isn't covered in lube.

He glares at me. "It's my room too asshole. Go wank in the bathroom."

"I can't do that."

"Obviously you can." He says, it draws colour to my cheeks and honestly in that moment I think I could come from just that.

I shake my head and raise an eyebrow at him, doing my best to maintain my composure. "Not this time I can't Snow." Well, I could technically, but this particular brand of getting off I feel I better suited to lying down.

His eyes flicker to the dildo on the bed beside me and then widen. I think he's about to run out in a panic again and allow me to continue here, wanking to the mortifying knowledge that Snow knows I have a dildo up my ass.

Instead, he glares at me. "Well, you're going to have to because I'm not leaving."

"Well, I'm not stopping." I fire back. Half regretting and half delighted at my own words. They're a challenge and he knows it. To see which one of us will break first.

He scoffs. "Come on Baz, even you won’t press on while I'm in the room just to spite me."

He's calling my bluff. Is it a bluff? I don't really think so. I've done it before after all, even if he doesn't know I know.

"You should leave before you find out. I'm sure Wellbelove won’t appreciate her boyfriend watching me wank." I spit at him with as much venom as I can muster while lying here without my trousers, debating whether or not I have the nerve to stick my fingers back inside myself while Snow is watching.

Snow glares at me, folding his arms across his chest.

Well. I suppose that's the end of that then.

I can't quite decide if it would be better or worse to look him in the eye while I do this. I do anyway because I want to see his reaction.

He can't see anything, but he knows that when my hand disappears back under the blanket that I'm sliding it into myself. I hold his gaze the entire time. See the look of shock on it and the way he swallows in that oh so exaggerated way of his.

"Baz- what- I- No-" He's tripping over his words again, trying to figure out what to say about this, what to do about this.

I raise an eyebrow at him as I pump my fingers in and out. He turns very red and I'm sure I would be too if I had any blood to spare.

I half hope he tries to call my bluff again. Pulls back the blanket to see if I'm really continuing. I am. I'd like him to know it too.

I bring my other hand down and rub it against the tent in the blankets. Then my eyes aren't on Snow anymore because I let out a soft gasp and my head tilts back. "You should leave."

Then he says what I'd dared not hope. "No."

I moan. I can't help it. Simon Snow has decided against all odds that he's going to stay here and watch me wank.

He’s going to stand there and watch me masturbate. Knowing I like it up the arse. Knowing I’m doing it to piss him off. Knowing I’m doing it because of him. Knowing I’m doing it  _ for  _ him.

"Pervert," I mutter as I thrust my fingers into myself harder.

Then I hear the scraping of his desk chair. Has he very literally pulled up a chair to this? I open an eye and glance at him. He's sat down at his desk, facing away from me and appears to be trying to do his homework.

It's not as good of a scenario as the one I thought was happening moments ago. It's not bad though. It's better than anything I could have imagined happening when I set this up.

"I'm not the one wanking while his roommate is trying to study." He says, but I can hear an edge to his voice and see his hand slipping under his desk and over the front of his trousers.

"It's not like anything could make you worse at studying than you already are." I inform him even as I continue to get myself off.

I think I'll finish this with my eyes closed. So, he can watch if he wants. I want him to watch. I want him to see me fuck myself. I want him to see me come.

I hope he wants me to be thinking of him while I do it.

He doesn't but I am.

**Simon**

Merlin, I didn't think he'd actually do it. I should have known. Baz Pitch doesn't back down from anything.

Even fingering himself while I'm in the room apparently.

He looked me dead in the eye then slid two fingers into himself and now I'm painfully hard again. I think maybe this is his new medium of tormenting me. Getting me sexually frustrated with no way to take care of myself.

I mean, I could.

I could unzip my trousers and take out my cock and watch him fuck himself while I jerk off.

There's a line though.

Fingering yourself while your enemy is in the room is definitely crossing it.

But jerking off to your enemy fingering himself? That would be crossing the line so far that you wouldn't be able to look back and see it anymore. And Baz would know. He'd know how hot and bothered he's getting me. I think he already does, after last time at least, when he saw my tented trousers after I'd watched him touch himself.

I'm not watching this time though. I'm trying to concentrate on my homework because as long as I don't leave I haven't backed down. But I can't just turn around and watch him. What if he notices. What if he calls me out on it.

I can't concentrate though. Not while Baz is behind me with laboured breathing, fingering himself and palming his cock through a blanket.

The question has very quickly turned from, am I gay? To, is Baz gay?

Because at this point, I still don't know if I'm gay, but I can't deny that I'm attracted to him.

That I want to take his cock in my mouth and watch him come undone. And, as of about a minute ago, that I'd like to finger him while I do it. Watch him writhe under my touch. Watch him squirm under my gaze like he did earlier.

I'd been so focused on his cock the past few weeks that I hadn't even considered other things. Fingering him. Fucking him. Letting him ride my cock until he's screaming my name.

No, I can't deny I want him anymore.

The question is would he want me?

I mean, he's about to shove a dildo up his ass unless I'm mistaken. That doesn't necessarily mean he likes men though does it?

Even if he does, it doesn't mean he'd like me.

Merlin, I want to watch. I want to see him do it.

I glance over my shoulder. He's got his head tilted back, eyes closed, raven hair splayed across the pillow behind him. That's not really what I'm focused on right now though.

He's still fucking himself with his fingers, alternating each pump by pressing down between his legs with the heel of his palm. Hips arching off the bed every few strokes and the blanket concealing his dignity inching steadily retreating further along his pelvis every time he bucks.

He's not as loud as he was last night. Or that night he fucked himself into the mattress.

Merlin what I'd give for him to roll over stick his arse in the air and moan into his pillow.

I should turn away. I should stop indulging myself like this. It's definitely a plot of his.

How can I though?

How can I do anything but watch the pale skin of his thigh ripple whenever he rolls his hips. Or stop listening to him breathe heavily, every so often cutting himself off mid moan by biting his lip. Or watching the way his shirt rides up and blanket slips away revealing course black hair inch by inch, but not the thing I really want to see.

I've never had much self-control.

So, I watch.

My hand against the crotch of my jeans that had up until now been covering my erection pushes down onto it and I have to bite back a moan this time. For snake’s sake, I hope he didn't hear that.

If he did he shows no signs of it. Instead, he just keeps going. So do I. Pushing my hand up and down against the bulge in my pants. Not stopping to think about how wrong this is. Not stopping to think about how I'm probably going to cum in my pants. Not stopping to think that this is Baz and he's my enemy and this is probably a plot.

Then he withdraws his fingers, but he hasn't cum. I feel my stomach drop as he pats around on the bed looking for the dildo.

I'm tempted to go over there and show him he doesn't need one if I'm here.

I don't. I manage that at least.

He finds it quickly and presses it in between his legs. Inch by inch easing it into himself.

I wish I had a better view.

The sheet is still covering everything I want to see. As if sensing this he tugs it back up, so it covers him properly again.

He gets halfway through a moan before he manages to reign himself in. I consider telling him he can be as loud as he wants. That I  _ want  _ him to be louder.

I know Baz though. So, I know it won’t work.

I turn back to my homework for a moment, making sure both my hands are on the desk when I say. "Could you keep it down, I'm trying to work."

He moans more loudly this time. I think my cock actually twitches at that.

I'm entirely sure he's glaring at me, watching me for some sign that I'm watching him. That this is affecting me as much as he wants it to. So, I focus on my desk for a moment. Ignoring the ache in my trousers that only gets worse with every shuddering breath he draws in and every low groan he lets out.

I give it a moment. Then another to be safe.

Then I let myself look at him.

He's not looking at me, thank snakes. He's got his head tipped back and his eyes are closed again, grey lips turned slightly pink from where he's been biting down on them. His chest arches up and his lips part as he draws in a sharp breath, plunging the dildo deep inside himself.

He's not rubbing his erection anymore, just fucking himself. I think maybe he's trying to make this last. To make this worse for me no doubt. I don't think he'd do it if he knew how much I was enjoying it.

I  _ am  _ enjoying it.

Even painfully hard and unable to get off, I've enjoyed all of this since that first morning I caught him in the shower.

I'm enjoying it now as I palm the crotch of my trousers again.

He moans again bucks a little, the hand he's not using to fuck himself tangled in the sheets again and not over his crotch so the blanket slips dangerously, catching on his cock instead of sliding off completely. Causing my breath to catch as well.

I want him to do it again. I want to see his cock while he comes and watch the dildo slide in and out of his ass.

As if it reminds him he brings his hand back and starts stroking himself in time with each thrust.

After that, he climaxes quickly. I want to watch but I can't risk him noticing me staring, so I look away as he moans deeply, rocking his hips hard upwards and unless I'm mistaken letting the blanket start to fall away.

Merlin, I'd have loved to have seen him so completely wrecked.

Not this time though.

Probably never.

Which seems to be around the same time I'll actually get to cum for once.

Never.

**Baz**

Really this had all been an elaborate scheme to get me off. To indulge my fantasies of Snow watching me wank and mocking me, humiliating me, using me.

Evidently, though, I mightn't be the only one who shares such thoughts. I doubt his are anything like mine. Really it just seems like Snow seeing me touching myself might've given him some kind of sexual awakening. I don't think he's interested in me. I think maybe he might be a little interested in men though.

I know he was watching.

If the flush on his cheeks and the tent in his pants didn't say it all, the fact that I cracked an eye open while he was distracted by my lower half was enough to confirm it.

Simon Snow was touching himself while he watched me get off.

And I did get off. Probably better than I have in my entire life.

Made a show of it too. Fucking myself. Moaning loudly after he told me to hush, even though I know it's exactly what he wanted. Letting the blanket slip just far enough away from my crotch to set him on edge but not reveal anything.

And getting off isn't my only reward for all this.

Snow's still sitting there, painfully hard. He won’t do me the pleasure of finishing himself off in front of me. He's too stubborn. I doubt he'll even get up and head out or to the bathroom to fix it. That would be a concession and he's trying to hide this.

I think that's my new plot for tonight. Find a way to get Simon Snow to stand up and accidentally show me how hard he is.

I get up and set about putting my trousers back on and spelling my sheets clean. I'm almost entirely sure Snow glances over to take a look. If I hadn't just come that would very nearly set me off again.

He's never had any self-restraint. So, this should be easy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair WARNING: Some bits at the beginning of this chapter could be interpreted as dubcon if you squint. It's just that the action kicks off then consent isn't explicitly given until a few lines later. Also, it's from the perspective of the character who needs to voice consent, who high key orchestrated the whole thing. (It's Baz, can you tell it's Baz yet?)  
> I didn't think it warranted tagging but if you disagree lemme know and I'll fix that right up. 
> 
> Also thanks to esabettie.tumblr.com for betaing this and dealing with my momentary freak out RE: the above warning. (I brought it up, she didn't, this isn't me ignoring the advice of people telling me otherwise I promise)
> 
> Anyways enjoy. For those of you who want to know specifically what they're getting into here, there's a list of kinks in the endnotes. For those who don't, read on.

**Baz**

I think I've caught Snow's stupidity. Seven years of living with him and I've finally caught it.

It's the only explanation for this.

There's something about all this. Getting caught wanking by Snow then covering off and running off to hide with what little of my dignity remains. It's fun. It gets me off. It's not enough though.

So, I've upped the ante.

Pants off and folded neatly on my bed. Wand beside them. The dildo I was using last week spelled to stick up on the desk while I bounce myself up and down on it.

My shirt's still on, so is my tie and my socks, but nothing I could cover myself with.

If Snow comes in, I'll be completely exposed.

So, I take it slowly. Not touching myself. Just rocking my hips up and down slowly. Because I'm not sure I'll have the courage to do this again. I want to. But I don't think I will. So, I'll just have to see it through this time.

I should keep an eye on the clock, so I know when he's due back. I don't though.

He'll come when he comes. I won’t come until he comes either though.

Eventually, he does. I'm fucking myself up and down and the door swings open.

He just stands there. Wide-eyed and shocked, staring at me.

I scramble to cover my crotch with my hands, but it does little. He can still see my thighs, my hips, everything that the span of my hands don't cover.

And I have a dildo up my arse. I'm completely seated on it now. Feeling myself stretched around it as I lock eyes with Snow.

I'm on a desk too. With my legs tucked under me. I can't get down without using my hands. I can't move my hands right now though. Even if I did. I'd have to walk across the room to get my pants.

I'm completely at Snow's mercy.

This was such a bad idea but it's such a good feeling.

"Snow, get out." I snap at him.

It seems to pull him out of his trance.

He kicks the door closed behind him, dropping his back by it and marching over to stand directly in front of me, shoving my desk chair away.

Crowley, what have I gotten myself into?

"Baz, what the fuck is this?" He snaps, grabbing my tie and pulling me up. As he gets in my face.

The dildo slides most of the way out of my ass and it's humiliating in the best way possible.

What is he doing?

What is this?

"Isn't it obvious, Snow?" I sneer at him as best I can despite his grip on my tie pulling me towards him and my crotch only covered by my hand inches from his chest. "Wanking."

He shakes his head for a second. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" I shoot back.

I don't think he likes that.

He places a hand on my shoulder and pushes me down. Pushing the dildo back into my arse as I'm forced back into a sitting position.

I bite my lip to suppress a groan.

Simon Snow just fucked me onto a dildo.

This has to be a wet dream, right?

"Baz, what is this?" He practically growls at me. Somehow, even after fucking myself for a good long while, I get even harder at that.

"What is what?" I ask again. Just to see if he'll do it again. To see if I can make him keep going.

He does. He pulls me back up by my tie. I think that might be an entirely new kink I've just stumbled upon.

"What are you plotting?" He asks, using his free hand to push me back down this time so he can keep the other wrapped up with my tie.

I let out a soft gasp. I can't help myself. Despite that, I manage to keep my voice fairly level as I ask, "What makes you think I've been plotting?"

"This." He snaps, jerking on my tie again. "All of this. What are you playing at? Is your new plan to take me down through sexual frustration?"

If that admission alone wasn't enough to get me off for the rest of my life, he goes to push on my shoulder again.

He hesitates.

I don't.

Fuck.

His hand had barely brushed me, and I'd just seated myself, letting the dildo push all the way into me again.

"Oh." He says softly, pausing for a moment as his eyes widen. I know that look. It's the look Simon gets when he finally puzzles something out that’s been pestering him.

Crowley.

Fuck.

This was a mistake.

"You like this don't you?" He asks, pulling me back up. "This gets you off."

I say nothing. My mouth presses into a tight line.

He pushes down on the hand on my shoulder but jerks the tie before I can get seated, so the dildo is only halfway up my ass and the muscles in my thighs have to strain uncomfortably to keep me here.

His voice is lower now, less incredulous and more sultry. "Admit it, Baz. Are you doing this on purpose?"

I say nothing.

Apparently, Simon Snow has finally gotten his wish of shutting me up and now he doesn't want it because he presses me again. "Come on, Baz, admit and I'll keep going. Do you like this?"

He pushes me down the rest of the way and a soft "Yes." escapes my lips before I can stop it.

"Good, good, answer my questions and we can keep going." He's taken to this rather quickly apparently.

He pulls me up.

"You've been doing this on purpose?"

"Yes," I say softly, and he pushes me back down.

Then up again.

"You've been trying to get caught?"

Then down again when I say, "Yes." and back up.

"You've been waiting for me?" He asks me this time.

"Yes," I answer and try to sit back down.

He doesn't let me, not letting an inch of slack into my tie. "You go down when I let you, okay, Baz?" His voice isn't soft, but I think it's a legitimate question because he lets my tie go slack.

I resist the urge to fuck myself onto the dildo. Instead, I nod. Because I'm weak. Because I want this.

"Good boy." He coos and it's patronising and demeaning, but it sends a shiver down my spine. "How long?"

I hesitate, I'm not sure I should answer that.

His hand moves over mine. Over my crotch. "How long?" He asks again.

His hands are warm against mine so warm I can feel it seeping through and brushing against my cock. "Since eight," I tell him. Because I want to. Because he wants me to.

"Eight?" His eyebrows shoot up. "Merlin Baz, eight? You've been at this for over forty minutes."

I say nothing but glance down at his hand.

He gets the memo and pushes down, pressing my hands hard against my cock and forcing me back into a seated position.

I can't help it this time, not with the dildo pushing me open and Snow's hand putting pressure on my crotch, even if it is indirect. I let out a soft moan.

He pulls me back up, so he can continue interrogating me. I'm glad he does. I think I'd tell him just about anything if he keeps this up. "Have you come yet?"

"No."

He doesn't push. He doesn't let me down. It's agony and I love it.

"Why not?"

He knows why not. He has to. Even he's not that thick.

He does know. I look at him and see a smirk painted across his face. He just wants to hear me say it.

I do.

"I was waiting for you."

Pressure on my crotch again, cut all too short as I feel my ass hit the wood of the desk and I'm pulled up again. "Why?"

"Because I like this."

"Like what?" He asks, not letting me down.

I shiver at his words. "Being exposed in front of you. Pleasuring myself in front of you. Letting you watch."

I think for a moment he's unsatisfied with that answer because he moves his hand off mine. "Well let me watch then. Fuck yourself."

It's all the encouragement I need. I move my hips up and down on the dildo, not as far as he was pulling me but much faster than he let me go.

I don't think he likes that, because he tugs at my tie and starts pulling on it then letting it go slack. In time with how he wants me to fuck myself. With how he wants to fuck me.

It's not enough but it's amazing.

Simon Snow watching me fuck myself onto a dildo. Controlling me as I do it. Setting the pace.

It's over all too soon.

He pulls my tie taught and I stop, unable to suppress a soft whimper.

"Uncover yourself." He says giving a pointed nod to my hands over my crotch.

I look at him for a moment. I can't help myself.

"Make me," I say.

**Simon**

"Make me."

He says it like a challenge. I think it is. I look at him for a long moment. I don't want to push him too far. I don't want to ruin this, whatever this is.

But his stare is unflinching, and I think it is a challenge.

So, I take a step back and I pull on his tie. He doesn't put up a fight. He comes willingly, leaning out over the desk until he loses his balance and has to throw his hands out to catch himself as he starts to fall.

He doesn't need to, not really.

I catch him.

I loop one arm under each of his and set him back up on the desk, sliding my hands down his arms to wrap around his wrists and pin them behind his back.

"You alright?" I ask his chest still pressed to mine, his head bent forward onto my shoulder. I want to make sure I didn't misjudge this.

"Fine."

"Good."

I glance down between us as his cock and see him squirm a little under my gaze.

"Baz, I-" I start unsure how to finish this. Merlin how am I the one who's unsure in all of this.

"Spit it out, Snow."

"Would you like me to tie you up?" I ask slowly and see his eyes widen. "Not properly, just your hands behind your back, you don't have to, I just-"

I've started to ramble, but he silences me with a, "Yes."

"What?"

"Tie me up, Snow."

I stare back at him for a second, then my face spreads into a grin. "Okay. First, though, I want to have some fun. If you can keep your hands behind your back while I do it, then I'll tie you up."

He nods, biting his lip and sending yet another ache through my cock.

I slowly let go of his hands and step back to admire him. Running my eyes slowly up and down his body like I've been waiting to do since I first walked in on him in the shower. I want to turn him around and see the other side too, but that can wait till later.

He squirms again under my gaze, cock bouncing slightly as he does so.

I run a single finger up the underside of his shaft and he draws in a sharp breath.

Then I lean down and trail my tongue across it. He whimpers again, and I think that might be my favourite sounds now.

I take him in my mouth, hoping to elicit another sound and he provides. Letting out a low moan around my name. "Snow."

Oh Merlin, now Baz is moaning my name. It's only my last name but it still courses through my body and rings in my ears.

I take my mouth off him and run my hands up his chest, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, one by one. Then I take one of his nipples between my fingers, rolling it for a few moments before I pinch him, getting another soft gasp. So, I raise my hand to the other one, rubbing my thumbs over both and he tilts his head back a little, mouth open, eyes closed. Fucking beautiful.

"Good boy," I say again, mocking him. Mocking the way he’s given me all this power for nothing. I think I see him shiver. I think he likes it.

I take the shirt off his shoulder and push it down till it's at his wrists then I bind them together with it. I've left his tie on. I figure I might want to have some fun with that again later.

For now, though, I intend to milk the fact that Baz Pitch likes having his nipples toyed with. Though I'm beginning to think he just likes being toyed with in general. So, I push him back down so he's sitting again and I pinch at both his nipples, pulling on them. He gets the message and lifts his hips up. Then I push him back down again. And pull him back up, again by the nipples. Getting the loudest groan, I've heard from him yet.

I push him down again but stop halfway, still holding his nipple, jerking him to a stop.

He flinches. I think that hurt.

"Snow." He hisses at me. Hisses, not moans.

"Sorry," I say softly. Leaning down to place a kiss against the nubs on his chest. "I won’t do it again."

And I won’t.

I don't want to hurt him. Not now. Not like this. Not when he's giving himself over to me, putting himself in my hands, letting me take control. I want to give him want he wants, not hurt him.

"Sorry," I say again, wrapping my hand back around his tie and moving so I'm standing right up against the desk before I pull.

Pulling Baz up and into me, feeling his erection rub up against my stomach and hearing him stifle a moan. So, I do it again. And again.

He moans louder each time, his breathing staggered and panting. Grinding up into me with every up stroke.

"Snow, I'm-"

I know what he was going to say. So, I stop. Pulling his tie taught he tries to pull back down but I don't let him.

"Snow." It's a whine this time. Low and pitiful and needy.

"You don't move until I tell you to move." I remind him.

"Snow,  _ please _ ." His voice weak and a little hoarse and filled with shame.

Baz Pitch is begging.

Well shit.

"Don't move," I tell him again and he stops pulling against me.

I retrieve his desk chair and set it up across from his desk, watching him, not touching him. As he sits there on his knees, dildo visible between his parted legs, cock stick out and dripping, his hands still bound behind his back. He's looking at me, pleadingly.

"Simon please." He says again. Drawing it out this time.

"Down," I say, and he complies. I watch the dildo disappear into his arse.

I wait a beat, then another.

"Snow." He says again.

"Up." And he does, but I'm not standing in front of him anymore so there's nothing to enjoy for him there.

"Slowly this time Baz. Down." He does do it more slowly, presses himself down onto it and groans as he does so.

Not slow enough though. "Slower." I bark at him. Then, "Up."

And he does it again.

I leave him there for a few moments.

Watching

Waiting.

Seeing him suffer.

"Please." He says again in a broken whimper. "Please, Simon."

"Will you go slowly this time?" I ask, testing him. He must want this, he's still listening to me after all, still obeying me.

"Yes."

"Okay then, down."

To his credit, he does go slowly. Very slowly. Pushing himself down as he takes the dildo, softly panting while he does so.

We press on like that a few more times.

"Up."

"Down."

"Up"

"Down."

"Simon." He interrupts me with a groan.

I stop. "Are you going to beg me again, Baz?" I ask him.

He whimpers and nods. "Please." He drawls out.

"Please what, Baz? Tell me what you want."

"Please let me fuck myself." He all but whimpers out.

My lip curls into a smirk. "You want me to watch?"

He nods slowly. "Yes. Please." He huffs out the words. "Please watch me fuck myself." I'd have let him after that, I was going to, but he pressed on. "Please let me fuck myself for you. Please let me come for you.” He whines again, desperate. Wanting.

"Okay then Baz, carry on."

And he does. He fucks himself up and down, cock bouncing up and down as he thrusts down onto the desk.

It takes longer than it should. He's still bound, he can't touch himself. It's worth the wait though.

I was right. Baz Pitch is fucking beautiful when he comes.

He throws his head back, his hair for once not perfectly arranged and instead splaying across his face, his lips parted wide as he gives a loud moan each time he thrusts himself down, riding out his orgasm.

When it subsides I slowly get up and walk over to him.

I'm almost entirely sure after the haze of needing to come is gone that he's going to panic and realise this was a mistake. After all, Baz always needs to have the last laugh, he doesn't beg, and he certainly doesn't do as I tell him. Tonight, he did though. So, I go to him.

"You alright?" I ask, lifting him up again but by the hips not with his tie. I try to move the dildo, but he's spelled it to the desk apparently, so I tug him a little closer to me and let him sit down again, properly on the desk this time, nothing up his arse.

I wait for him to respond to me as I lean around to untie his wrists.

He doesn't respond.

"Baz." I prompt him, letting a hand come up to cup his cheek. He's not bound anymore, so I half expect him to smack me away.

He doesn't though. He just looks away from me, eyes filled with what I think is shame.

I don't know what compels me to do it but I lean forward and place a kiss to his cheek. His eyes meet mine for a moment, wide and questioning.

"I'm fine, Snow." He keeps his voice strangely level for what we just did, but I would have expected nothing less of him.

I place my hands under his thighs and scoop him up.

"Snow, what the fuck are you doing?" He protests as I pick him up. Merlin, he's heavy, but not as heavy as he should be for our age.

"Helping you off the desk, you prick," I mutter depositing him as gently as I can on his bed. I figured it would have been a bit of a challenge for him to get down with his legs tucked under him and probably aching after that.

I don't know when I started giving a shit about Baz's comfort. Probably sometime between when I walked in and when he admitted he was waiting for me.

"Snow, have you-." He hesitates a moment. Well, that's new. Apparently, I'm seeing a lot of new things regarding Baz tonight though. "Have you come?"

My eyebrows shoot up. Is he going to ask me to do what he just did? Is he going to watch me get myself off? I half want him to. I could be snippy with him, ask him when in that scene he thought I got off. I don't though, I don't want to ruin this. So, I just say. "No."

"I'm already-" He stops again. "I mean I'm-." It's more stuttering than I've heard Baz do in his entire life. I consider mocking him like he does me. But I don't. I'm glad I don't when he says, "What I'm trying to say is you can fuck me. If you want."

I just stare at him for a moment.

He stares back at me, the faintest hint of a flush spreading across his cheeks.

"No." I say eventually, and he looks away again, so I add, "Not yet."

"What?" He asks me, even laying there naked while I'm still fully clothed he manages to make me feel like a child.

"I mean, you're not hard." I point out.

"So?"

"I want you to be," I admit because I do. "I want to see you come again." And now he's staring at me again. "I kind of like...waiting." I say eventually, my voice small.

He nods slowly, swallowing, looking like he's steeling himself to do something stupid. He slinks off the bed, wincing a little, before getting on his knees in front of me.

_ Merlin. _

He's not going to-

He undoes my belt and pops the button on my trousers.

_ Shit. _

He is.

"Baz," I say slowly, warningly, but I don't push him away. I do want this.

He stops for a moment and looks up at me, stormy eyes tinged green in the light as they meet mine. "Don't worry, I won’t make you come."

He doesn't press on until I give the go ahead though. "Why should I believe you?" I ask because I don't believe him. I don't believe a fucking word he says.

He looks at me for a moment, levels his gaze at me. Then he pushes up my shirt and jumper a little, pressing a kiss to my hip. "Because I want you to fuck me, Simon." The words alone are enough to send a shiver down my spine. The way he says them though, quietly, his voice huskier and deeper than usual, that really gets to me. "May I?"

I nod slowly and let one hand move down to tangle in his hair.

He tugs down my trousers taking my pants with them and finally taking some pressure off my aching cock. My clothes pool around my ankles as he runs his tongue slowly along my shaft, pausing to flick his tongue across my tip. Then he wraps one hand around it, the other reaching behind me to grab a fist full of my arse.

Then he takes me in his mouth. He's cold but it does nothing to quash my arousal if anything it feels better like this, entirely different than when my own warm hand is pleasuring me.

He bobs his head and runs his hand in time with it and I can't help but tilt my head back and gasp.

He takes it slow. Like he promised. I'm not going to be getting off from this.

His mouth slowly warms up around my cock, so does the hand grabbing at my ass. It's not until I'm thinking about how much I was enjoying the coolness of him that I realise he's probably freezing.

He draws another moan from my lips as I speak. "Baz. Stop."

And he does. Immediately. He draws back like I've slapped him. I think maybe he thinks he's done something wrong.

I don't know what to do about that, so I just peel my jumper off over my head and crouch down to put it on him. He looks at me like I've grown an extra head as he puts his arms through the sleeves. He doesn't say anything though.

"You ready to go again yet?" I ask, hoping against hope he is as I run my hand up his thigh,

He raises an eyebrow at me and suddenly it's like the cocky Baz I've come to know and despise is back. The wave of relief and happiness that washes over me doesn't quite seem to agree with me despising him though. "Snow, it's been five minutes."

Merlin, that long? It feels like I've been waiting eons. It also feels like mere seconds. "Do your knees hurt?" I ask this time, still crouched in front of him.

"Stop fussing, Snow." He snaps at me.

I roll my eyes, I can't help it. "We could do this on the bed," I tell him. "If your knees hurt."

He hesitates a second and nods, getting up and crawling on top of his bed. "Lay down, Snow."

I do. I kick off my shoes and trousers and lay down in front of him, spreading my legs, loosening my tie.

He's still wearing his too. That makes me smirk as he settles between my legs. Dipping his head back down.

"Keep your hips down. Don't buck up." He tells me.

Is he the one giving the orders now?

Who knows. I might be into it. So, I do my best to follow them.

He doesn't make it easy for me though. Placing wet open-mouthed kisses up my length, running his tongue over it, taking my tip in his mouth.

I'm not sure how long I manage to last. Another five minutes maybe.

He wraps his lips around my shaft and I can't help it. I let out a soft mewl and buck upwards. "Baz." I moan, feeling myself hitting the back of his throat.

My hand's still in his hair but evidently, he's a lot stronger than me because he jerks away a second later.

"Baz?" I pant out again, opening my eyes and looking at him. He's sitting back again, one hand covering his mouth.

Fangs. Holy shit I think it's his fangs.

He lets his head droop forward to rest on my hip and places another kiss there, murmuring out a quick. "Sorry." There's a lisp to his words and his mouth sounds fuller again.

I tuck a hand under his chin and tug him up to face me. He complies, crawling up until our faces are level as I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him. I move my hand to brush across his cheek then I dip my thumb between his lips and pull up the top one. He lets me.

I was right, that's definitely a fang that wasn't there before. I would have felt when his mouth was around my cock. Which would be why he told me not to buck.

Merlin, I'm an idiot.

"No, I'm sorry," I tell him.

Then I kiss him. Because I want to. Because I can.

It's not heated like the rest of this has been, it's still slow, but not teasing. It's soft and apologetic but somehow it sets me on fire in a way Agatha's kisses never managed.

I shove that thought right out of my head. I don't want to be thinking about her right now. I want to be here. Thinking about this. Doing this. Because it's all I've been thinking about for months now.

His lips move slowly against mine, unsurely, tentatively. I don't mind, I just keep going because I want him to know I don't mind if he doesn't know how to do this. I don't need him to know how to kiss me. I just need him to do it.

"You ready yet?" I ask again.

He shakes his head.

"That's fine," I say pulling him back in to kiss me. I could just keep doing this. I would just keep doing this. But the aching between my legs makes it impossible to focus. "Let’s get you started."

He doesn't respond, he just pulls away from me and turns around getting up on his knees and bending his head down. Quite literally presenting himself to me.

If I didn't want him to be hard for this, I might've taken him right then. It was an attractive image, Baz Pitch bent over, arse in the air, looking both endearing and seductive in my jumper and socks that come midway up his calves.

I lean forward a little. "I meant try and get started with turning you on, not fucking you, Baz." I place a hand on his lower back, running it down and between his arse cheeks, letting it trace circles around his hole. "Look at you though, so eager." I murmur because by now I think I've figured out what he likes, and I think it's this. "So ready to be fucked. So willing to please. So desperate. So needy."

I toy with him for a while, teasing him, fingering him.

I don’t stop until he’s fucking himself back onto my fingers, panting, moaning, his cock now hard between his legs.

I'm forced to wait again but the pounding between my legs has long since become a common part of this, one I've learnt to enjoy.

"Roll over," I tell him eventually.

**Baz**

He tells me to roll over and I do, spreading my legs, baring my finally hard cock to him. "Why?" I ask because honestly, I can't imagine Simon Snow wanting to fuck me like this. If I'm the other way around he can pretend I'm someone else. So, he can pretend he’s taking Wellbelove up the arse. Or someone else. Maybe a bloke. I don't really care. I just know it won’t be me.

"I told you, I want to watch you come." He slowly lifts my hips, slipping a pillow under them to prop me up. "Shit, Baz, it's fucking beautiful." He breathes out in a sigh, leaning down to kiss me again.

I'm not sure why he does it this time, but I won’t fight him. Last time he was trying to apologise. It didn't make sense, but this makes even less. There's no rhyme or reason behind this kiss. He cups my face tenderly in his hands, his fingertips brushing my hair out of my face as he parts my lips with his own. His tongue pokes in tentatively, checking for fangs I think. They've retracted though, so he slides his tongue against mine and I wrap my arms around his torso, holding him to me because it's probably the only chance I'll get to do this.

He's been unexpectedly gentle with me. I mean, all of this is unexpected, but Simon Snow kissing my cheek before, or carrying me to bed or giving me his jumper is just a whole new level of odd I can’t wrap my head around right now. It’s nice though. I like it.

He's still wearing his fucking shirt. It's ridiculous. I'm wearing his jumper though and it smells like him and it's his school jumper, so it's made of exactly the same thing as mine but somehow it's so much warmer. I'm not taking it off. So, I suppose it would be hypocritical to take Snow's shirt off.

I loosen his tie a little for him at least. I'm still wearing mine too. I wonder if he'll pull on it again while he fucks me. I think normally I'd like that. I'm not sure it's what I want right now though when Simon Snow finally fucks me.

"You ready?" He asks softly against my lips.

I am. "Are you?" I ask, gesturing to my bedside table. "Put on a condom, Snow, I don't want to catch whatever diseases you've caught from your chavvy Normal fuck buddies."

Unless I'm mistaken I think he looks hurt for a moment. It's an expression I see often on Snow, just never quite like this. Never so soft, never so vulnerable. Usually, Snow's hurt burns bright and he lashes out. This hurt is meek and timid, and it ties knots in my stomach.

"I don't have any fuck buddies, Baz." He mutters to me but gets opens my draw and tears open the packet inside anyway.

He doesn't ask me why I have one, so I don't ask the question burning in my mind. Is Simon Snow a virgin?

He lines himself up with my hole, tracing circles around it. "You finally finished being a prick?" He asks.

"You finally going to use yours?" I fire back.

He laughs for a moment. "That was terrible, Baz."

It was admittedly terrible, but I'm well prepared to defend it anyway. Then he pushes into me though and I forget what I was going to say.

He takes it slow, but I'm well prepared by this point so he doesn't need to, his cock slips easily into me. Like it's meant to fit there. The thought makes me shiver.

He stops a moment and I wonder if he's going to make me ask. If he's going to make me beg again. I'm sure I would, even if I hate myself for doing it last time. '

He starts moving though, thrusting slowly in and out of me. I don't hold back this time, I moan with every movement, moving my hips with his as best I can while on my back.

"Oh fuck, Baz." Snow moans.

Simon Snow is moaning my name.

Now I'm entirely sure this is just a wet dream.

I can feel my arse stretching to accommodate him though and his hand starts stroking up and down my cock. I can't recall ever having a dream this vivid.

I don't moan his name.

I did last time.

I won’t again.

Not yet.

And then because I'm a constant disappointment to myself, I do.

"Simon." I moan, as I come embarrassingly quickly after all that waiting.

"Baz." I think for a moment he's responding to me, mocking me. But he's not. He's coming too. He's coming groaning my name after only having his cock in me for little over a minute. 

Yes, I think Simon Snow's a virgin.

Or at least, he was.

I don't know what to do with that information. I probably just took my long-time crush and longer time enemies virginity. I feel a little smug about it.

He thrusts in and out of me as we both ride out our orgasms. It's complete bliss. Better than any I've ever had. But maybe I'm just being sentimental because Snow's the one who gave it to me.

He slowly pulls out of me and gets up.

I don't know why I held onto hope that he might stay. It was stupid to even think about it.

I should get up and dress for bed, but I'm exhausted. So, I just return my pillow to where it should be, flipping it over for good measure and spelling myself clean as I crawl back under my sheets. Snow's not getting his jumper back tonight unless he explicitly asks for it and I don't think he will. I think maybe he'll just want to forget about this.

He sheds his shirt as he walks across the room and I will myself to look away from his tawny arse as he ties the condom and tosses it in the bin. Not letting myself count the spattering of moles and freckles there or the ones that span his back.

He flicks out the light. Then I do let myself look at him because I can see and he can't.

He looks gorgeous. Hair more mussed than normal, cock softening between his legs, freckles dotting every inch of him. Every. Single. Inch.

But he's walking towards me and I'm taken aback.

He tugs up the edge of my blanket, exposing my bare lower half to the cold night air, then soothing it over with his own body heat as he crawls in beside me.

Crowley. What is he doing?

You're not meant to cuddle up to someone you've just had casual sex with. Particularly not when you can very easily get back to your own bed which is only three feet to the left.

He's here though and he's so warm and he wraps an arm around me.

I lean into him. I can't help myself. I let myself have this. Whatever this is.

**Simon**

Waking up next to Baz Pitch is an experience, to say the least.

His hair is a mess from last night and his lips are still curled down slightly because that's just the way they are but he's not frowning. And he's still wearing my jumper.

I tear myself away from all this.

From Baz.

And his bed.

And whatever it is about that, that just doubled my heart rate.

Usually, it's fear. I'm not scared right now though.

It's not that I don't like this, whatever it is. It's not that I don't want this. It just feels like we've done things in reverse and I don't know what to do about a relationship when it's done in the right order.

So, I get up and get ready for breakfast. I take Baz's jumper because he's still wearing mine. It's a little tighter than mine, but it smells like cedar and bergamot and I want to bury my face in it.

I don't. I just go to breakfast.

When Baz finally graces everyone with his presence he's not wearing a jumper. He's not wearing my jumper. I don't know why that upsets me a little.

Nothing's changed I don't think.

He levels a glare at me across the dining hall as usual and mocks me all through classes. By the end of the day, it feels like last night didn't happen.

Nothing's changed.

I'm just left feeling a little deflated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised a list of kinks this chapter contains: (Will be added to upon request)  
> \- Dom/sub (You can guess by this point who is who)  
> \- A dash light bondage  
> \- A sprinkling of orgasm delay  
> \- A spoon full humiliation (though the soft shit)  
> \- Desk sex (Which seems to be becoming a trend in my snowbaz fics)  
> \- A tie kink (Not the choking kind, but a lil like the leash kind)  
> \- Shit getting far softer than it should for porn


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids, this is way later than intended, so sorry! ~~pro~~ amateur tip: Don't plan your 5+1 only to the fifth scene and 'figure the rest out later' also don't have ur climax in the 5th scene??? Basically, the point is I'm an idiot and this isn't really a 5+1 anymore so imma probs retitle it and retag it so if anyone has title suggestions that would be bomb.
> 
> As such, imma be honest I didn't proofread this more than once cause I got sick of it?
> 
> Also thank you to the lovely esabettie.tumblr.com for betaing me :)  
> And thank you to Hili for her wonderful suggestions and helping me figure out why I hated my plans for this chapter
> 
> Anyways hope yall enjoy.

**Simon**

I think Baz has been avoiding me. I've not been alone with him since that night we fucked and that was three days ago.

I mean, we share a room, but he doesn't come back until late in the evening, long after I'm asleep and he actually gets up and out of bed before me for once. I don't know where he goes. I time my mornings, so I arrive at breakfast as soon as it starts and he's not there either.

So honestly when he walks into our room in the late afternoon it kind of shocks me.

He's in his football gear, he had a game today. Usually I'd go to make sure he isn't up to anything, but honestly right now following him around feels like a bit too much.

He just gathers up his things and disappears into the bathroom.

I think we should talk.

I don't know how to talk about this though.

How do you tell your worst enemy you'd really like to shag them again?

Again. That is the key term here. Again.

We already did it once and Merlin it was good. Not just getting off, but him too. Baz. Fucking him, messing with him, getting to watch him come.

I was just so in control for once. And he let me be.

I'm not in control of anything usually. Not my magic, or my life. Not what I fight or what happens to me. The Mage decides or the Humdrum attacks or I end up dealing with one of Baz's plots. I never get to choose, I just do what I have to.

He let me be in control though. I liked it a lot. I think he did too.

So, I stop thinking, like I usually do and just do it.

I wrap twice on the bathroom door. I can hear the shower running and honestly thinking about my previous encounters with Baz had me worked up enough but thinking about him wet and dripping and maybe touching himself again has made me half hard already.

"Baz," I ask tentatively, but loud enough that I know he'll be able to hear me. "Can I come in?"

I expect just a blatant no, instead, I get a, "Why?"

"You know why," I say because it's true, he does.

He’s silent for a few moments, so I just stand there, hand on the doorknob, relieving every embarrassing moment of my life one by one and seeing how they compare to this situation.

"Fine."

My heart rate speeds up again and I stay there for a second, processing if this is really happening.

So, I stop fucking thinking again and just open the door.

Steam washes over my face, apparently Baz likes his showers very hot. His clothes are folded neatly next to the sink and all his products are there. All the fancy posh stuff he keeps stowed away so I won’t touch it.

He pokes his head out from behind the shower curtain for a moment and suddenly I'm thinking back to the first time I caught him. "Are you joining me, or do you just want to watch."

My mouth falls open a little. I didn't even think of watching as an option. I can't tell if he's mocking me or serious. It doesn't matter, I know what I want.

"I'll join you," I say as I shed my shirt.

"Bring my wand," He says, still watching me undress looking almost hungry. If I didn't know better I'd say he was going to suck me dry, I don't think he will though, I think he wants this too.

I see a smirk darken his face as I take off my pants and reveal my half hard cock. Despite my better judgement, I do get his wand before slipping into the shower with him.

It's a little cramped, but I suppose we won’t need that much space. And the water is fucking scalding, maybe his plot is to try and melt my skin off. But he's here and naked and prying his wand from my fingers so I think I'll just have to chance it.

I think he's about to cast something, but I get in first and press my lips to his. He stops whatever he was about to say and brings his hand up to the back of my neck, his wand jutting into it a little in a way that's uncomfortable, but easy enough to ignore right now. My hands find the wet skin of his back, it's warm for once, no wonder he takes such hot showers.

We just stay like that for a moment. His lips moving against mine, his lips parting as my tongue makes its way into his mouth, my fingers tangle in his hair where he's slicked it back out of his face. Honestly, I could stay like this. I could enjoy just this. The feeling of his lips and his skin and his hands on me.

He pulls back though and grasps his wand anew, muttering, " **Stand your ground.** ”

Honestly, that’s not what I was expecting. I’d been expecting a lubricating spell or something, but no, he’s stuck me to the floor and he’s going to use the shower to melt my skin off and it’s going to be the most humiliating death anyone’s ever died.

**Baz**

Simon looks like he’s panicking a little. I don’t even properly have time to revel in it because I’m scared he’s going to run off. I didn’t think he’d want to do it again at all. If he does I don’t want to fuck that up.

Well, not run off, he can’t run off. But he’ll try to stop this.

“What the fuck, Baz.” He snaps at me. He does look panicked.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Imagine the headlines, Snow.  _ Chosen One dies, dooming the World of Mages when he slipped while shagging his roommate in the shower. _ ”

He squares his shoulder for a moment, obviously expecting a threat but then he realises, and lets out a soft, “Oh.” and he leans in to kiss me again. “A little heads up next time.”

Crowley, I could stay here just snogging him forever. I think the hot water would last, I’m not sure I’d need it with all the warmth coming off Snow, though.

He doesn’t want that though. That’s not why he’s here.

I trail my mouth down his neck, down his chest, covering as many of his moles as I can without making it apparent what I’m doing. Eventually, I end up on my knees in front of him.

He’s hard. Completely now. I resist the urge to take him in my mouth and instead take the skin of his inner thigh between my teeth. He hisses a little, but I think it’s a good hiss because his hand is still in my hair, stroking it back.

“I won’t do it again.” He says, breaking the silence between us.

I look up at him. “What?”

“I won’t move my hips.” His voice is a little lower than usual and he’s breathing heavily but there’s a soft edge to it. “If you want to- If you wouldn’t mind- If you’d-”

For the first time in my life, I take pity on Simon Snow’s stuttering and wrap my mouth around his cock.

He gives a soft moan as I slide my mouth lazily up and down. His grip tightens in my hair. Tonight, instead of gripping him I let my hands wander. Over his stomach and around, dipping into the curve of his back and running slowly down it until my hand settles on his arse, giving it a squeeze.

“Baz,” He moans softly. I don’t think I’d ever tire of hearing him say my name like that. Not spat out in a rage, but said softly and pleasurable, his voice deep with arousal.

His hands leave my hair for a moment and I’m almost disappointed.

I faintly hear the sounds of something opening but I figure I can hassle Snow about using my products after I’ve drawn him to orgasm.

But then fingers are back in my hair and they’re scrubbing something through it. Something that smells like cedar and bergamot.

Well shit, Simon Snow is shampooing my hair while I blow him.

That tugs at my chest in an all too familiar way. Even though I already washed my hair this morning. I consider telling him that but he's being unreasonably sweet, and I can't bring myself to fight him right now.

"Baz, I didn't bring my things. Can I-?" He hesitates when I meet his eyes, my mouth halting for a moment. For a moment I think he's only taking care of me, so he can use my things, but Snow isn't that smart.

I raise an eyebrow at him and pointedly lick across his tip before I return to my ministrations.

"Is that a yes?" He asks, even though it was obviously a yes.

It's not the most eloquent answer, but I give a soft, "Mmmhmm" and it causes Simon to moan, so it's well worth it. He cracks open the shampoo again.

My hands eventually stop trying to memorise every curve of Snow's body they can reach. One settles around his cock, stroking it in time with the movements of my mouth, the other starts rubbing up and down his thigh, in a movement, I'd refuse to call a caress (but that definitely is).

I take my time. True to his word, Snow doesn't buck his hips into my mouth again, even when he comes.

"Oh god, Baz." He moans, quite loudly this time, as I feel him start to fill my mouth.

So apparently Snow swears like a normal when he's aroused. That should really be more of a turn off for me than it is. I spit what he got in my mouth down into the water below us and just stroke him until he's done.

He tucks two fingers below my chin and guides me back up to him. He's always so gentle. Coaxing me instead of pulling me. It's a little unnerving but I like it.

And then he's kissing me again, as he rinses the last of the suds from my hair. "Spell me free, would you?"

I do because I'm entirely sure if I speak and argue right now I'm going to ruin everything.

"Thank you," He smiles at me and I keep my face as neutral as I can manage. "For that and ah..." He trails off, but I get the message.

I roll my eyes at him. I can't help it.

"What, not speaking today Baz?" He prompts me, still grinning like an idiot.

I suppose he's left me no choice. "I figured I'd wait to antagonise you until after you got me off." That I suppose could be passed off as flirting, it’s not outrightly mean. It's not entirely the truth either.

His smile doesn't falter which I suppose is a good sign. "Why does it have to be antagonistic?"

"Because I'm talking to you."

"The things you were saying weren't bad last time we did this." He reminds me, running his fingertips slowly down my stomach, stopping just above the base of my cock. I'm not sure what makes me flush more, that or his words.

"Snow," I basically growl at him.

"I think I'd like to make you say nice things again." He trails his hand back up my chest and moves forward to press himself against me, my cock flattening against his stomach. "Would you like that?"

I don't say anything, I just grind my hips into him.

He laughs a little. "I think you would. So, you're going to finish up your shower and you're not going to touch yourself and  _ then  _ I'll get you off. Okay?"

I swear Snow finds a new level of confidence when we do this, he trips over his words a little less, maybe because he knows I'm not going to pull him up over every little slip.

"Okay?" He presses me again.

I swallow, and he watches it intently. "Yes."

And then he's not low and sultry anymore. He gives me a sunny smile and kisses my cheek. "Good." Then he steps out of the shower and after a few moments, I hear the door close behind him.

I do try to draw the shower out as much as my normal ones, but if I'm honest, I just want to get back to Simon, even if he'll call me desperate for it. I think I want him to call me desperate. I am desperate.

I won’t be if I spend a long time in here though. Because I told him I wouldn't touch myself and I won’t. But I still want to be hard and if this takes too long I won’t be.

So, it's with a mixture of reluctance and excitement that I turn off the shower, it feels a lot like throwing in the towel. Which apparently Snow has taken. My towel that is. And my wand.

He has left my pyjamas, but I'd have to dry myself off with the bathmat to get them on and I'm above that. What I am apparently not above is, walking back into our room naked and erect.

It takes me a few seconds to manage it, but I do.

Simon's sitting on my bed and he looks up at me when I enter. Then he looks down at the rest of me. "It wasn't fast, but it was faster than usual, wasn't it Baz?"

"It would have been longer, but someone took my towel," I mutter at him, though I'm not really mad. I'm enjoying it more than I care to admit. Though I'm not sure what to do with my hands. I'm tempted to cover myself, but it feels stupid after what we just did. It would just look stupid to put them on my hips. I fold them across my torso and feel stupid anyway.

"Lay down, Baz," He pats my bed.

I scowl at him. "I'm not getting on my bed while wet, Snow."

He gives a long sigh. "On mine then."

I hesitate for but a moment, frowning at him, wondering what he's up to, but I comply anyway. Laying down on my back on Snow's bed, my hair soaking his pillow, my body dampening his sheets.

He moves to sit down on the edge of it, beside my hip. His hand reaches out to run across my stomach again and across my chest, it's perfectly innocent save for the fact that I'm hard and naked and he's biting his lip as he grins at me.

He runs his hand up the inside of my thigh. All the way up, until his palm is resting over my cock. Then he just stays there, watching me.

Oh yes. He's trying to make me say nice things. Or probably just dirty things. He wants me to tell him how much I want him. I want to tell him that too. But I want to make him work for it more.

So, grind my hips into his hand. I expect him to draw it away. He doesn't. Not at first.

He just lets me roll my hips into his hand, silently, listening to me pant and try to hold back my moans.

Then he lifts his hand an inch and I have to roll my hips harder, thrusting up into his hand. He still lets me.

He lifts his hand another inch and now my hips are leaving the bed. My stomach and thighs strain a little to do it but his hand feels so good against my cock and I can't help myself. I just keep pressing myself up into him.

I feel so pathetic and needy and he knows it too. Really that's only turning me on more.

I meet his eyes for a moment and then my cock meets nothing, and he smirks at me.

I let out a whine and hate myself for it as my eyes flicker back to his hand. He's lifted it another inch and by now this has long since felt like resisting and feels a lot more like giving in than anything I might've said to get him to stroke me. It's so much better.

I thrust harder, using my knees now, trying to push my cock into his hand. He lets me do it again, once, twice, thrice, then he lifts his hand higher and I follow.

He keeps pushing me to give him more and I keep doing it until I can't reach anymore. Until I buck as high as I can but can only reach open air.

"Snow." I groan as my hips flop uselessly back into his sheets. Even with all the football training, my muscles are starting to hurt from this. I know he'd stop and just give me what I want if I told him that. I don't really want him to stop though.

"You're not tied up this time, Baz, why aren't you touching yourself?" He murmurs, the hand that he isn't using to taunt me reaching out to stroke the back of mine.

"You told me not to, Snow. I swear you have the memory of a goldfish." I mutter, but the effect is lost a little because I'm still panting and painfully hard and he has all the power here.

He doesn't seem to take offence. "That was while you were in the shower. You can touch yourself now."

I meet his gaze for a moment and for once in my life I can't figure out what Simon Snow is thinking. Probably because it's not about food or me plotting. "Do you want to see me touch myself?" I ask, my voice coming out quieter than I intend.

"Do you want to touch yourself?" He fires back.

I know the answer, I'm entirely sure he does too.

I just push my hips up again, as high as I can, but I can't reach his hand. I feel ridiculous.

Then I do it again because I find I rather like that feeling.

"Tell me what you want, Baz. Say it and you can have it."

I thrust upwards, one more time in vain.

"Tell me." He purrs out, still stroking his thumb along the back of my hand.

"Fuck. Simon, I want you to touch me." I groan out because I can't help it.

"Do you?"

He's right. That's not what I want. "No," I say quietly. "I want to fuck myself up into your hand." I push my hips up into nothingness again to punctuate it.

"Why?" He presses me.

"Because I want to show you how much I want it." I thrust my hips up again and blissfully I feel my cock brush Simon's palm. Not properly, but more than I've been getting. "How much I need it. How desperate I am."

He lets me press fully into him and I let out loud groan.

"I think you showed me how desperate you were when you kept thrusting up into nothing." He says, shooting me another proud grin that ties my stomach in knots.

"I like it when you make me show you how much I want it. It's humiliating and pathetic and I love it."

As much as I'd love to look at Simon right now I let my eyes close.

"I like it when you make me tell you how much I want it." I manage, my breathing ragged from exerting my body and continuing to speak, but I can't make myself stop either, so I just pant out the words. "I want to tell you, but I like it when you drive me to it."

With each admission, his hand sinks lower and lower and everything becomes easier, the motions, the words that fall from my lips.

"I like it while you’re there clothed and I'm naked and exposed and yours to toy with, to play with, to do with as you please."

I'm not sure if I want to see the expression on his face at that one, but I rather enjoy saying it.

"Snow." I moan his name, I can't help it.

"You called me Simon last time." He tells me.

"No, I didn't." I deny it, even though it's true.

And then I'm pressing up into nothing. His hand is gone and no matter how high I thrust. "Snow." It comes out as a whine again, but this time I don't really care, I just want his hand back.

My eyes flicker open and he's got his hands in his lap. I flush. That must have been fun for him to watch, me pressing up into nothingness and hoping for his hand, not just once, but over and over. Judging by the expression on his face it was. "Try again."

I frown at him, but I do it anyway because he told me to. I push my hips up into the air and he laughs at me.

"I meant, try again with my name."

I fix him with the best glare I can manage right now and pant out. "Snow."

He leans over me and holds my hips down with his forearm, pushing his weight down onto me. I could definitely throw him off if I wanted to. But I don't. I really really don't.

He begins tracing one finger feather light up and down my shaft.

"Crowley, Snow."

He says nothing.

I bite my lip and try to resist it, but I know he can feel my hips pressing up into his arm, searching for more.

I don't last long and when I do say his name it comes out as a whimper. "Simon."

He retreats but leaves his hand over my cock, where it was before, where I don't have to pick my hips up to grind into it. I do grind into it. Hard and fast and desperate. "Fuck, Simon." I moan out his name again.

I've long since stopped biting back my moans, and now whenever he draws one from my lips his name comes with it. I feel my climax starting to build.

"Simon, lift your hand up."

He does, only by a little bit.

"More," I growl out, this time he hesitates. "Make me earn it. Fuck Simon, let me show you how much I want it."

He does pull back a little after that, so I have to lift off the blankets slightly to meet him.

"I want to show you how much I want it. How desperate you make me. How much I want you to let me get off." My chest is heaving, and I know I'm not getting enough oxygen but I can't stop and I don't want to. "And I want you to let me, Simon. I want you to make the rules and tell me when I get off and how. I'll do whatever you want, I'll cross every line for you."

His free hand finds mine again and I grasp it. It feels too far from just sex, but I couldn't care less right now. "Fuck, Simon." I groan as I finally come, spilling all over my stomach and into his hand.

I stop pushing up into his hand but it's okay because he brings it down to meet me, stroking languidly up and down my cock as waves of pleasure wash over me.

The muscles of my stomach ache and my lungs are still dragging in air as best they can, but Simon Snow is pumping my cock as I finish and I could not be more content.

Until I realise everything I just said.

Crowley, I said a lot of things. More than last time certainly. I shouldn't have closed my eyes. I should have watched his reactions and seen if I was pushing too far or saying too much.

But then he moves to straddle my thighs and warm hands come to rest on my abdomen. He leans down to kiss me, and I feel his erection press up against me as he does so.

I let my eyes open when he pulls back, and he gives me a small smile. "You okay?" He asks me like he did last time. "That wasn't too much?"

If either of us was too much tonight, it definitely wasn't him.

He watches me a small frown making its way onto his face as he starts to slowly rub circles across my abdomen. I think he might be trying to massage me? And Crowley it feels good, so I just close my eyes again and lean back so I can finish catching my breath.

One of his hands leaves my stomach and I'm not sure what to expect but then it comes to rest softly on my cheek. "Baz, are you okay?" His voice is still soft, but this time it's a little more insistent.

"I'm fine, Simon."

Fuck. That one was an accident. One he must have quietly enjoyed given the way he smiles when my lips meet his. He pulls away all too soon and returns his hand to my stomach, still rubbing small circles on it and Crowley, if I hadn't just come, that would be doing things to me.

As if he's reading my mind his hands move down to my thighs and he starts to massage there. I all but melt into a puddle beneath him.

Eventually, he tells me to flip over and given the way his erection was pressing into me earlier, I think I know why. I'm by no means ready to go again, but I do it anyway because I want to. And because even though his bed is damp it still smells like him and I could lay here forever. I flip his pillow over, so I can press my face into the dry side as he settles down across my legs again.

Just as I'm about to tell him where the lube is his fingers find my lower back and are rubbing circles against it.

Oh. I suppose we're not fucking just yet then. I don't bring it up. I just enjoy it.

Eventually, though, it does end. He leans down and presses a kiss to my shoulder blade and then he rolls off me. He rests beside me on the bed and when I turn to look at him he waits a moment, glancing over my features, searching for something I think.

"You're not pathetic." He says eventually.

I look at him like he's dumb. "What?" And now I'm the one who seems dumb.

He chews his lower lip for a moment and the way he draws attention to it makes me want to take it for myself. "Before when we were... you know." Crowley, he can't even say it. "You said you were pathetic. But you're not."

"You are." I sneer at him because frankly, this is too much. The shampoo and him holding my hand while I came and the massage and now this? It all feels too much like it's not just sex. I know I'm just reading too far into all this and it  _ is  _ just sex and I don't need Snow confusing me right now.

I sit up and head back into the bathroom, scooping up my wand on the way and shutting the door behind me.

I dry myself, though there's not much left to dry anymore save sweat and semen. If anything, I probably need another shower. Instead, I just press on with my evening routine and dress.

I consider just sinking to the floor and sleeping in here tonight, but Pitches don't cower. So, I go back to our room. Then I think maybe sleeping on the floor of the bathroom would be ideal after all because Snow is in my bed.

"Go back to your own bed." I snap at him as I march over to my desk and fetch my Greek textbook. It's late but it's far too early to be sleeping and I should study.

"It's wet." He says like that's all the explanation he needs to give.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "And you were originally going to do it in my bed." I point out to him, even though I could definitely just spell it dry. I could spell his dry too, that would probably save me from this conversation.

"I know, no need to be such a prick. I was going to let you sleep in mine."

That stops me. I frown at him for a moment, I don't know what to say to that, so I just sit down on the bed, crossing my legs at my ankles and cracking open my Greek textbook and begin annotating it in pencil.

Snow moves in on me like he's scared I'm going to snap at him at any moment. Which is a valid fear I suppose. At first, he leaves space between us, one of his legs swinging off the bed to do so. Then he shuffles a little closer, so he can sit on the bed properly, his side pressed against mine. Little by little he curls into me, eventually letting his head come to rest on my shoulder.

I do my best not to acknowledge it, no matter how much I want to lean into him or throw my arm around his shoulders or tell him I love him.

He doesn't give me much of a choice.

"This isn't this week's work."

"I know, I'm reading ahead." I'm thankful that somehow despite the situation I manage to keep my voice steady.

"I can't even do this week’s work." He mutters more to himself than me I think.

I hesitate. But he's leaning into me and he's been far sweeter tonight than I had any reason to suspect and maybe it's made me feel charitable. If he ever asks though, I'll tell him it's because I wanted to show him how much smarter I am than him. "Go get it."

He looks at me for a moment, like he's waiting to see if I'm joking. I raise an eyebrow at him and he breaks into a smile, leaning up to kiss my cheek. He hurries over to his desk and gathers his things before he comes back over and settles into my side again. He draws his knees up and rests his textbook on them then his homework on top of that pulling the pen lid off with his mouth in a way I find both uncivilised and incredibly endearing.

Crowley, I'm so far gone.

He goes to question one, then after a moment pulls back and looks to me.

"Really, Snow, stuck already?"

"Yes, now are you going to help me or mock me?"

"A bit of both?" I say, and it earns me an elbow to the ribs. Not a hard one, nothing that would bring the anathema down on him, just a soft nudge, the kind exchanged between friends.

I do explain the question to him. And the next one. And the one after that. Always explaining, never actually giving him the answers, he needs to learn how to work that out for himself. I lean over with my pencil and make corrections or point out bits of the textbook.

"This isn't working." He groans out eventually.

I'm halfway to telling him he's doing fine before I realise he doesn't mean the homework, he just means how we're doing it. He moves over the top of me so he can settle in between my legs.

He tilts his head back onto my shoulder, so he can talk to me, his breath tracing across the underside of my jaw. "Better." I can't tell if it's a comment or a question. It is better though, I can look over his shoulder and see the questions and easily reach out and make corrections. It's also a lot better because the warm weight of Simon Snow is pressed into my chest.

I don't respond though. Not to that. "Can you do question four?"

He turns his gaze back to his work and nods for a moment. He gets halfway through before he asks for my help again, which is progress at least.

It's slow going with Snow. There's a lot of gaps in his knowledge from younger years and I'm doing my best to fill them. I'm sure Bunce has tried many a time and Snow will have forgotten everything I've taught him by tomorrow, but I don't mind.

Somewhere along the way, my arms wrapped themselves around his middle. As soon as I realised what I was doing I tried to pull them back, but he'd already placed his free hand over one of mine and was holding it in place. So, I didn't end up moving. That was probably about the same time my careful explaining became murmurs into his ear. He doesn't seem to mind though.

He does eventually get a question right on his own, I tuck my face into his neck while he does it. It's correct and I can't help but take the opportunity to press my lips to one of the moles on his neck. After all, it was right there. He didn't seem to mind that either.

It takes forever for him to finish, but it's still over all too soon.

He drops his things onto the floor beside my bed and before I can reprimand him he's turning around and snogging me again. I don't have a great deal of experience with it, all of my experience has been with him. It feels like a thank you though. It's gentle and his hand is on my cheek again, he doesn't use his tongue this time, or his teeth. It's more like he's giving than taking this time like if I want to take things further he will, but he'll wait for me to do it.

And maybe I want to.

But I don't.

Eventually, he pulls back and gives me a sleepy smile. "I can sleep here tonight, yeah?"

I nod because I don't trust my voice right now. He lays down completely this time and then the second I spell out the lights and recline beside him he throws an arm over me and tucks his head into my shoulder. I might enjoy it if I wasn't so intent on not enjoying it. If I wasn't so thoroughly focused on the fact that all Simon wants from me is sex.

But maybe I should just let myself be content for the moment. I've shown enough weakness tonight, once more won’t hurt. So, I reach a hand up and tousle his curls, then I just let it stay there. My arm resting on his side, my hand tangled in his curls. His arm draped across my chest, his face finding its way into the crook of my neck.

Crowley, what have I gotten myself into?

 

**Simon**

This has become a regular occurrence for us apparently.

We never actually sat down and talked about it. Merlin, I wish we would. I've  _ tried. _ Baz just brushes me off.

So, there are no real rules to this.

I catch Baz wanking (or, he lets me I suppose) and then we're at it. Touching, teasing, more often than not fucking. Sometimes he waits for me to catch him, sometimes he'll just start while I'm in the room and I get the jist of it.

Then it was midday rendezvous in empty classrooms if I tell Penny not to wait for me after class. Or shoving each other into alcoves or up against walls in deserted hallways.

So there's no guidelines or manual for this. Baz tells me if I do something and he doesn't like it, so at least there's that. The only time he's actually willing to talk about what he does want though is in the middle of the act. When dirty lewd things come pouring out of his mouth like he can't stop them.

Maybe, I want to talk about this though. Maybe I want more than just this.

He never so much as looks at me without a sneer when we're not fucking though. Sometimes his edges soften a little afterwards, but that's only afterwards. So, I tell myself this is the last time. We do this and then I talk to him and if he wants something more than great but if he doesn't we’re done.

I try not to remind myself that's what I told myself the last three times.

He's sitting at his desk working. I do my best not think about how many times after the first we used that bloody desk. I walk over and rest my hands on the back of the chair peering over his shoulder.

"What do you want, Snow?" He demands, cold as ever. Honestly, it's a wonder that I want him sometimes.

It's not really though. I do like him. I figured that out eventually. I just like him a little more when he's not being rude or cruel. When I know where he is and what he's doing and what he's thinking (or at least, all the sexual things he's thinking). When he's not off plotting my demise. But he only really does it after we've fucked, or during and that's not enough. I need to be an 'all the time' kind of thing, or at least when we're alone. I just can't deal with going from that to acting like we're still enemies.

Are we still enemies?

I don't think so.

He probably does but I'll deal with that later.

I press my lips to his neck and drag them up his throat till their resting just below his ear. "You."

I think I feel him shiver under my touch, but he might just be cold, he seems to be pretty much perpetually cold. I think it's part of his vampirism. Come to think of it, we haven't talked about that either short of him telling me to be still when he sucks me off. I add it to the steadily growing list of things we'll need to talk about.

He tilts his neck to allow me better access. "And how do you want me, Snow?"

He succumbs to all this a lot faster now, gives in with a practised ease and doesn't seem so mortified about it later. Really though I'd like to get to a point where he's not mortified at all.

I bite slightly at his jaw and let out a soft hum as if I'm thinking. He reaches a hand up behind my head from where he's still sitting and tangles it in my hair. He seems fond of doing that, I always expect him to pull me away but he never does.

"Naked." I murmur as my mouth pressed against his jaw, my hand reaching over to loosen his tie.

"Obviously," He tells me, sounding slightly breathless.

I turn my attention to sucking on the skin of his neck. It never blemishes for more than a few minutes, not like mine does, but it's never stopped me from trying. "On your back."

"Okay." His voice is steady by my fingers are against his neck and I feel him swallow before I start to undo his shirt buttons.

"Fingering yourself." I pull my mouth back and admire my handiwork against his neck but it's already starting to fade so I dive back in.

I feel his fingers tighten in my hair. "Yes." It comes out of his mouth as more a sigh than a word.

" _ Only  _ fingering yourself," I tell him, popping the final button on his shirt and running my hand up his cool stomach. "No touching your cock."

He just gives a small nod. My hand trails back over his chest, stopping for but a moment to pinch at one of his nipples before it eventually comes to rest on his cheek.

I turn his head to face me. "Can you do that for me, Baz?"

"Yes." He's somehow managed to steady his voice again, but that's fine, he'll be back to moans and sighs soon enough.

_ " _ Do you  _ want _ to do that for me, Baz?"

"Yes," He says again, sounding a little less confident this time but equally as honest.

I press a kiss to his lips for a moment and he responds eagerly, the hand in my hair pulling me into him as he slides his lips against mine and his tongue delves into my mouth. I swear we've done this a hundred times by now but he always finds a new way to ruin me with his mouth every time.

"Then do it," I say eventually, finally pulling back.

I go and take a seat on my bed and watch him undress. It's far from a striptease, particularly when he folds every item of clothing after taking it off, but I still feel a tightening in my trousers.

"Half hard already and I've barely touched you," I say when he slips out of his pants.

He doesn't say anything to that, just walks over to the table between our beds and takes out a bottle of lube. I can't help myself, I give his arse a quick smack as he bends over to retrieve it.

He jumps slightly, but I don't think he dislikes it. He tells me when he dislikes the things I do.

I don't comment but I tuck that one away for later.

He lays down on his back on his own bed, sideways across it, presenting me with a lovely view of his asshole. I want to walk over there and take him myself. I want this too though, to watch. I know he likes it. I like it too, even if it is torture. I think as I tug at the front of my trousers, pulling the fabric away from the growing bulge there.

And then Baz is sliding a finger into himself, slowly until it can't go any further. Then he begins to pump it in and out of himself.

"Slower," I say, not because I necessarily want him to go slower, I just want him to listen to me, even though I know he will.

He does go slower, but he's a bit more forceful too, trying to make the most of what he has. Of what I'll give him.

His legs are spread wide and hanging over the edge of the bed. His free hand curls into the sheets and I think in a minute I might go over there and take it.

He lets out a soft moan. "Snow, can I add another finger?"

Fuck. It takes every ounce of my strength not to go over there and give him my fingers as well. I say, "No," even though I don't really want to. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Please, Snow." He says, still going nice and slowly just like I told him to.

"Please what?"

"Please let me add another finger." It comes out as almost a whimper.

I push him, because I can and because he wants me to. "Add another finger to what, Baz?"

"My arse."

"Come on Baz, ask properly," I say, and then I do walk over to him, running a hand up his thigh and coming close to his now fully erect cock but not touching it.

"Please let me fuck myself with two fingers, Snow."

I pretend to think for a moment, making him squirm, making him wait. "No."

He groans, loudly and this time it's not from pleasure but frustration.

I lay down beside him, though I don't take his hand like I want to. Instead, I just brush my hand slowly up and down his thigh, letting my nails drag across it and seeing him shiver and lean up into my touch. "Look at you, completely hard from just one finger," I mutter into his ear again. "Or is it me watching you? Me telling you what to do?"

"Yes," he breathes out softly, his plight forgotten for the moment.

I glance down his body, past my hand still trailing his thigh. I can't see where his finger is slipping inside of him, I can just see his hand moving slowly. He won’t do anything against what I've said though, he doesn't want to, I know that. I just want to make him say it. "Yes to which bit, Baz?"

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes fluttering open and meeting mine, darker than usual his pupils blown wide. "All of it. Fucking all of it."

"All of what, Baz? Say it." I know he'll follow my demand, even though it takes me a moment.

"I like you only letting me fuck myself with one finger. It gets me off that I'm doing it how you want me to, that you can make me do whatever you want to get you off while you watch." He's not panting, he's taking things to slow to be panting, but he interrupts it with gasps as moans and halfway through I take his lips in mine, so he whispers it against me.

He does it every time, but it still manages to surprise me when he says things like that. When he all but tells me he wants me. When he makes it sound like it's not just about sex for him, it's about sex with  _ me _ . I run my hand through his hair and stroke it down his cheek with a tenderness I usually reserve for after we're done.

"Ask me for what you want again, Baz, properly this time," I basically coo to him.

His gaze meets mine for a moment. I see a spark of resistance in his face but my thumb runs across his cheek and I see it dissolve.

"Fuck  _ Simon _ . Please let me fuck myself with two fingers," He begs. I pretend to think again, and it earns me a "Simon, please."

I run a hand across his chest, pressing a final kiss to his lips before drawing back. "Okay."

He releases a low groan as I return to my place on my own bed just in time to see his index finger slip into him alongside his middle.

The tightness in my trousers is starting to become painful at this point and I press down on it with my palm, but it does nothing to relieve the ache. It feels more like he's teasing me than I am him at this moment. I suppose everything between us has always been a two-way street though.

"Baz," I call to him.

"Simon." He groans back, thrusting into himself and bucking his hips as he says my name. Sometimes I think he times those with his responses just so he can moan my name like that. I'm not sure if that's for my benefit or his, but I certainly enjoy it.

"We're going to see if you can come without touching yourself," I tell him and I think the moan he lets out might be in response. "So tell me when you're getting close, I want to fuck you over the edge."

"Crowley, fuck, Simon, yes." He groans, thrusting hard into himself on each one. Now I'm almost certain he's doing that on purpose. "I'll tell you, I want you to fuck me."

I can't take it anymore. The pain of my cock between my legs, not while I'm just watching. I kneel on the floor between his legs, trailing kisses up his inner thigh, taking care to keep my face out of range of his hand. It doesn't take much effort, he's got his legs spread nice and wide, he usually does.

"Ugh, Simon." He moans my name again and I feel his thigh shift bellow me as he bucks upwards a little. I bite down on the flesh between my teeth to still him, but it only makes him moan louder.

I try to distract myself by drawing the blood in him to the surface. I've never managed to leave a mark on his throat or his shoulder, so I doubt I'll manage one here, but I want to try anyway. It makes Baz squirm under me so that's a bonus.

I press kisses to his skin and bite it, smoothing it over with my tongue, but even with the way it makes him writhe under my touch, I slowly grow bored of it.

"Stop," I tell him, and Baz ceases the movements of his hand immediately, fingers still buried half way into his arse. "Take those out." I pull on his hand a little and Baz whimpers but doesn't protest.

"I'm not ready to come yet," He tells me like I don't know how vocal he gets when he's drawing nearer anyway,

I reach for the bottle of lube he's discarded on the bed and pour some of its contents over my fingers. "I know," I say as I slip two fingers into him and watch him roll his hips against me.

If I wanted to I could probably make him fuck himself onto my fingers, with the circles his hips are making he's certainly trying, but I feel like more than just watching tonight.

So, I pump my fingers slowly in and out of him, feeling the way his muscles clench around me, trying to keep my fingers inside of him.

He moans my name again. "Simon." Passes through his lips and I realise I've hit his prostate.

I don't violently thrust my fingers in and out like he did. Instead, I do soft small strokes, only drawing my fingers out a fraction of the way as I rub against his walls.

He writhes under my touch again but this time it's a lot more satisfying. Watching him come undone under my fingers not just my orders.

I still take it slow, but that seems to have an effect because soon Baz is groaning out my name on every other thrust. "Fuck me, Simon."

I withdraw my fingers and he lets out a low whine. "Are you ready?"

He gives a shaky nod. "Yes, I'm close."

I grin at him and he tries to suppress it but I think he grins back at me.

"Stand up," I say as I quickly strip off. 

He does stand but he doesn't take his eyes off me, biting the inside his lip as his eyes roam over every piece of skin I expose.

In his stead I lay down on my back on his bed and beckon him over with one hand, rolling a condom over my cock with the other.

I think it's because I've told him to stand, but he just stays beside the bed for a moment, unsure what to do. I take that opportunity to cover my length in lube.

I gesture with my head for him to climb on top of me. "I want you to ride me."

His eyes widen for a moment, but it's not like we haven't done this before. He climbs on top of me, settling over my hips.

I run my hands up his thighs, I seem to be doing that a lot tonight but they're pretty much all I can reach right now.

He pushes himself down and onto me, drawing in a shuddering breath. My nails dig into his skin and I let out a soft groan as my aching cock finally gets some attention as he sits down, taking me in inch by inch.

It goes in easy enough, he's well prepared but he takes his time anyway, I'm not sure if it's so he can tease me, because he wants to or because he thinks I want him to.

He hesitates a moment when he's fully seated. Somehow, he still looks poised, even while sitting there with his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his cock upright between his legs and mine filling his arse. He won’t be in a moment, he gets like that when he's close, he turns into a bit of a mess. Openly shuddering and moaning, his lips parted, his hair a mess, more dirty things spilling from his mouth. Still beautiful, even when he's ruined, if anything it makes him more beautiful. There's just something about someone so put together falling apart, even if it doesn't last long.

He places his hands on my stomach to balance himself and he slowly starts lifting his hips up and down. I told him I'd make him come untouched, but I suppose the way his cock smacks against my skin with every bounce doesn't really count as him being touched. Even if it does, I don't want it to stop.

I just lay there for a moment, letting him set the pace, letting him get comfortable but I can only take it for so long.

I moan his name and thrust up to meet him. He responds in kind, grinding his arse into my hips, my name falling from his lips.

And then we can't stop. He pushes down on me, harder and faster, I thrust up into him. We're both moaning and panting and chanting each other’s names.

We're far from quiet, I was self-conscious about it at first, after all, we have our own room but it's not like we're the only ones in the building. Apparently, he's been putting silencing spells on our room for years, he said it's because he didn't want my snoring to wake the rest of the cohort. But I don't snore (I don't think) and Baz isn't that considerate, so I think he was just being snippy. I do see him cast silencing spells every so often though and with some of the things he says to me I can't blame him. This isn't exactly public knowledge and even if it was I don't think I'd want people overhearing anyway.

I slow down a little because I can feel myself getting close. He whimpers a little but so do I, so I can't say anything about it. I think he's close too. He's starting to look wreaked, moving faster with shorter thrusts and his breath coming in short huffs through a now permanently open mouth. I think I'd like to take advantage of that.

He's still riding me though, hard and fast, his pre-come splattering across my stomach when his cock hits me.

"Slow down," I tell him, stopping the movement of my hips.

He does, but he lets out a soft, "Simon." this one more a desperate plea than a moan of pleasure.

"I know, I know." Because I do. I'm tempted just to slam into him over and over until we both finally come. But I want to kiss him more. I want to feel him moan into my mouth, I want to run my hands through his hair, I want to feel the way the muscles of his back tense when he finishes.

So I sit up and he seems surprised but he doesn't lean away from me, he rarely does, that would be too much like retreating usually and too much like rejection right now.

He's basically in my lap now, grinding down into me as I wrap an arm around his waist, his cock trapped between us and giving him more friction than I'd intended to. It doesn't matter, right now I just want to hold him close, to savour this, because if he doesn't want what I do, this time will be the last time.

I wrap an arm around his waist and pull him into me. He's too tall, particularly when he's on my lap but for once I don't need to pull him down to me. He just leans down, tilting his chin slightly towards me like he always does when he wants me to kiss him. I do kiss him. His lips are soft but the way he kisses me rarely is. He's less compliant here, he doesn't let me take what I want, he gives me what I don't even know I want. Agatha never kissed me like that. She  _ was  _ just compliant. I try not to think of her right now. I don't have to try very hard, Baz is incredibly distracting.

I start pushing up to meet him again, feeling the vibrations of his groan against my mouth.

He pulls back a little, he usually pulls back a lot, he will in a moment if I don't do something. So my other hand stops propping me up and moves to the back of his neck, holding him there gently, not hard enough to make him stay but enough to let him know I want him to.

He does tear his lips from mine and I suffer at the loss, but he's panting heavily and so am I, so I should be grateful for the respite. He presses his forehead against mine. He's more rolling his hips against mine than bounding on me now, to keep us together I think. I don't mind, it still feels amazing, each movement sends pleasure coursing through my veins.

His long dark lashes part and his eyes meet mine. "Simon." It's softer than usual, gasped out between us in a whisper as I feel him spill against my stomach and clench around my cock.

The drives me over the edge and I finish barely a second afterwards. "Baz," I say against his lips because I can't help but kiss him again, even if he's panting.

He's still grinding his hips down into me but there's less force behind it, he's taking it slow now, letting us both come down from our orgasms slowly.

His eyes are still captivating mine as we finish. He stops for a moment after we're done and we both just stay there, staring at each other. Then, because Baz's favourite hobby is hurting me, he gets up and walks back to his folded pile of clothes.

"Baz, come back." It feels stupid to even ask, but really with where I'm going at the end of this, I might as well start feeling out his answer now.

"I'm getting my wand, Snow." True to his word, he scoops it up off the desk and sends me a sneer while he flicks it back and forth between two fingers to make his point.

"I want to talk to you."

He eyes me wearily. "We are talking, Snow." Then he casts a quick, "Clean as a whistle," on himself. He casts one at me too.

I don't say anything else. I think maybe he's waiting for me too. I've already asked twice though, so I just lay back into his pillow. I don't bother redressing, there doesn't seem much point after all that.

Baz hesitates a moment, but he lets out of soft sigh and concedes, placing his wand on the bedside table and slipping under the covers beside me. I get under them too even though I'm flushed and sweaty and feel far too hot because he's cool, even after all this, and he lets me press up against him.

I don't press up against him today. Not yet at least.

**Baz**

He's not curling up into me. Why isn't he curling up into me? What have I done?

He told me to come back to bed, I did. What more does he want?

He takes a deep breath, his unremarkable blue eyes finding my own. "I can't do this anymore." He says it quietly and I feel my heart stop altogether. "I need more than this."

"More?" I ask hesitantly. "Well do tell, Snow, what kinks have you got hidden away?" It’s easier to mock him than it is to admit he's tearing me apart right now.

A frown darkens his features for a moment and I think I'm at the point where I'd consider tracing the crinkle of his brow till it disappeared. Or I might if we weren't having this conversation.

"Not that. I want this," he tells me like it isn't a direct contradiction to what he'd said mere seconds before. "Just this. I want to kiss you without having to shag you afterwards. I want to run my hand through your hair without having to pull it. I want us to lay together like this whether we fuck or not."

I wonder if he's been practising that. It sounds too rehearsed, too lacking in 'um's and 'ah's to be Simon's natural speech patterns.

It all sounds too good to be true. So obviously I try and ruin it. "What about Wellbelove?"

"What?" His expression passes from confusion to frustration. "We broke up. I'm not a cheater, Baz." He actually sounds a little affronted, mad even. "I wouldn't do that to her." Of course, he wouldn't. "I wouldn't do that to you." That one catches me a little off guard.

His expression softens a little and I can feel mine trying to mimic it. I don't say anything though.

Snow doesn't seem to deem that an acceptable response though. "So," he presses me, "is that something you'd be interested in?"

Is that something I'd be interested in? Really? I've been thinking nearly nonstop about it for years and he's wondering if I'm even interested in it.

I should say no, that would be the smart thing to do.

When we're like this though, Snow has a way of drawing confessions from me, getting me to tell him all my deepest desires. And there's nothing I desire more than him.

So, I nod. "I- yes. I want that too."

I'm embarrassed to admit I stumble over the words a little, but he smiles. He moves in a little closer, so he is pressed into me now.

"You want to be my boyfriend?" He asks quietly so I feel the words breathed onto my lips more than I hear them.

"Absolutely."

"Don't get me wrong, I still want the sex, Merlin Baz, the sex is great." He adds, and I feel like someone’s given my stomach a vigorous stirring. "But I'd like this too."

"Whatever you want," I say because what he's describing is basically exactly what I want.

"Whatever I want?" He asks with a sly grin that makes me think maybe Snow does have some secret kinks stashed away somewhere. "Can I wear your jumper again?" That admittedly throws me off guard a little.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "I don't see why not."

He nods and for a moment I think he's satisfied. Then I wonder if stupidity can be sexually transmitted.

"Will you wear my jumper?"

My eyebrow achieves all new heights. "It smells like you."

He misses the point. "Okay?"

"It smells very strongly of you. It unmistakably reeks of your magic."

He just stares at me because he's an actual moron.

"Everyone would know, Snow." I spell out the obvious to him like everyone always has to.

His mouth forms a small 'O' shape but then he gives me a small shrug. "I don't mind. It's your choice."

I watch him for a moment, searching for some sign that he actually means that, that he wouldn't care if everyone knew. Tentatively, I reach over behind me, off the edge of the bed and onto the floor, picking up his discarded jumper and pulling it over my head.

His face lights up when I re-enter his embrace. It's not that late, I should get some more work done. Snow is warm though and he wants me here and it's exactly where I want to be, so study can wait.

I slip a hand in between his thighs and he gives a small yelp. "Baz," He berates me, but he doesn't pull away.

"What? I'm cold." I know exactly what he's thinking, and I wish that was what I was thinking, but really, I was just thinking my hands were cold and I wanted him wrapped around them.

He grabs one hand and draws it out from between his legs, wrapping his own hands around mine. "Better?" He asks.

I give a small hum as he rubs my hand between his,

Yes, this is better. Not just that. All of it.

Simon Snow wants more than sex.

Simon Snow wants  _ me _ .

And he wants me in his jumpers at that.

Good.

That's what I want too.

**Author's Note:**

> General notes if you've made it this far. I was intending on leaving this as a 5+1, but it could also be done as a series as to better tag for people to find what they're after re: smut. Would still be one story, but let's be real, no one reads smut for the story. So if you have an opinion on that lemme know?


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